Spider's Web
by Divine-Red-Crayon
Summary: [AU] Amity City, the setting for our story, the home of Danny Fenton and Sam Manson, is a cruel place to live, a hard place to endure, and the only place they can go. They led two separate lives until one faithful, snowy night in the wrong part of town...
1. Prologue

**:AN:** I finally decided to post this. The fist three chapters following this are already typed up and the fourth is started. This is an AU fic with rather adult themes, although nothing very graphic or tasteless. The rating may be subject to raise.

Even though I have the first few chapters written, I'm going to pace in a way that I can stay ahead with my chapters, keeping at least one in reserve. I am hoping this method will prevent situations that have occured with my other fics...

Well, aside from all that... _enjoy_!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him belongs to Butch Hartman. -_insert wittyremark here_-

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**Title: Spider's Web**

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_**Prologue**_

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Samantha Manson was your run of the mill odd-ball. Looking at her only gave you half of the story. She looked like she belonged in a rock band, she looked badass and tough. At the same time, it looked like she strived to mimic the ghosts that had been frequenting the news, cold, dark, frightening. But, much like the ghosts, she was just misunderstood.

Her hair was black, her clothes were dark, and her skin was an interesting contrast to it. She had a creamy complexion which showed how little she exposed herself to the sun, and I can't neglect to mention her shocking lavender eyes. She wore fish-nets with army boots, and band tees with plaid skirts. Her wrists were covered with bangles and bracelets of all sizes, shapes, and colors. The way she carried herself was entirely unapproachable.

People saw this when they looked at her, but they didn't _see_ her. At the risk of sounding cliché, Sam kept her true self under lock and key.

She had little faith in people.

If you don't believe in something it is difficult to trust it. Take poverty stricken families for example. The kids don't believe in Santa Claus, they can't trust the fairy tale to bring them gifts every winter. Applying this to Sam's situation comes down to one thing; she had trust issues.

One thing that had Sam scoffing the most was 'true love'. She didn't buy it; she didn't absorb its blatant propaganda like all those other fools. She saw plenty of relationships in her life; all failures. Big fat failures that destroyed lives… she wouldn't fall for the ruse.

The most influential of the aforementioned failures came from her very own parents, which lead her to make a big mistake. Well, it might be a bit rash to call it a "mistake", but every now and then she had her doubts. She had run away from home when she was 17 and ended up in the city, Amity City to be exact.

She had packed well enough; she had clothes, toiletries, CDs, the basics. She also had about $100 in cash on her. Truly it wasn't that much considering her parents were loaded and she wasn't planning on returning.

She had caused her parents enough trouble, just as they had to her. They were a mutual thorn in each other's sides. Sam was to them because she forced them to stay in a loveless marriage, and they were to Sam because they forced her to stay in a loveless family.

So one day she was just fed up with everything, she just up and left. Never to look back.

Five days in the city and she was almost completely broke with a mere $15 left. This was what started her troubles. She was a high school drop out who needed a place to live and couldn't survive off a salary as a fry cook at the local Nasty Burger. Hey, it wasn't her fault she didn't know how to budget, and it wasn't her fault gas was so expensive.

Seven days after she left home she had run out of money completely, was hungry and desperate- _just_ short of willing to go home. It was then that she ran into Lydia Simpson. It was this chance meeting that changed the course of her life.

Sam had left her black Jetta (a Sweet Sixteen present) in the parking lot of a local grocery store and was walking around the city figuring she might have better luck finding work on foot. She was rounding a corner when Lydia ran into her. They sprawled on to the ground.

"Oh shit!" Lydia cried. "Oh God, I'm _so_ sorry!" She reached a hand down for Sam. "God, are you alright?"

"Fine," Sam replied taking her hand, "I'll be alright."

Sam studied the girl before her; she wore a tight tank top, a mini skirt, some bangles, and had long red nails. Her makeup was _way_ too flashy for daytime –_or _nighttime for that matter. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was.

"Let me make it up to you, k?" She cocked her head to the side and stretched her mouth into a big smile. She had very white teeth.

"That's okay," Sam brushed off her pants. "I'm fine really, you don't have to."

"Oh, but I _insist_!" her smile never faltered. "You _can't_ refuse!"

Sam shrugged; she _was_ hungry, "If you insist."

She squealed with delight and stuck out her hand, "I'm Lydia, by the way. And you are?"

"Sam," she shook her hand and was caught off guard when Lydia threw her arm around her neck and started guiding her to a near-by diner.

They were seated in a booth by the window when Lydia started asking questions.

"So what brings you to Amity City?"

"I, well… –I sort of ran away," Sam admitted bashfully. It sounded kind of lame now that she'd said it out loud; it was like something a five year old would do when she didn't get that toy she'd begged for.

"Really? How long have you been here?" she asked. "When do you plan to go home?"

"I've been here almost a week," Sam replied. "And I _don't_ plan on going home."

"I see," she replied fiddling with the straw of her cherry coke. "And just how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Wow, that's _so_ funny!" she slapped the table for emphasis.

"Is it?" Sam asked nursing her iced tea. She didn't find it that comical.

"…'Cause it's like, _no_ shit!" she cried. "I did the _same_ thing!"

"…You did?" Oh, _ironic _funny.

"Totally!" she nodded with vigor. "So, like, do you have a place to stay yet?"

"I've been staying in my car… so not really."

"Oh my God!" she smiled and shoved Sam's shoulder playfully. "You totally have to come stay with me! I have an extra mattress you can crash on 'till you get on your feet."

"Really?" Sam asked. "That's so nice, but we've just met and… well… why _are_ you being so nice?"

"I know what you're going through," she explained. "A car is no place for a girl to live and I _know_ I would have killed for an offer like this when I was in your position. I know it seems kind of sudden an' creepy, but I swear it's all out of the goodness of my heart!" She placed her right hand over her heart and placed her left in the air as though taking an oath. "What do you say?"

At this point Sam didn't have much choice. It was getting closer and closer to winter and she couldn't leave her car's heater on all night, she had no gas money as it was.

"I think I'll say yes." They shook hands to seal the deal. Sam didn't know why, but it sort of felt like the right thing to do.

So Sam found her car with Lydia and they went to her slightly slummy one bedroom apartment. The "mattress" for Sam to crash on was really a futon in the living room. Sam didn't mind, it was far better than her previous accommodations in her car.

She soon discovered that Lydia wasn't exactly a prostitute as she had originally assumed, instead she was a 'parlor girl', which was basically the same thing, if only a bit safer. She also discovered that Lydia was 21. She worked in a back alley massage parlor, Paul's Parlor to be exact. She said that she could probably get Sam a job if she wanted.

Sam didn't.

Lydia had just shrugged saying that she was passing up a chance to make easy money, but if she ever changed her mind to let her know. She then winked and said she had to go hit the 'grind stone'. She giggled at her own joke and left, having told Sam earlier to make herself at home. "_Mi casa es su casa_," she had said. Then she laughed saying that that was all she learned from her three sporadic semesters in Spanish class.

Anyway, Sam was left alone to ponder over her situation. While it was definitely looking up, she still couldn't help but wonder if it was all a mistake. She was living with a prostitute she hardly knew for God's sake! It was then her eyes caught sight of the headlines in the news paper: "**_Business Tycoon and Wife Mourn the Loss of Their Missing Daughter, Samantha Manson, Age 17_**". Two photos were next to the medium sized article, one of her "grieving" parents, and one outdated picture of herself.

'_How quaint_,' she thought to herself.

She shredded the paper and threw it away.

Sam's never ending hunt for work turned futile and she was sick and tired of imposing on Lydia. No matter how many times she was told that it 'was all cool', she was desperate for work and desperate for a place of her own. After she'd been at Lydia's for a month and after she'd realized her job situation wasn't going to improve anytime soon. She took Lydia up on her job offer.

Lydia was quite thrilled and told her that it really wasn't as bad as it all sounded and she could start out slow, she wouldn't have to do anything she wasn't ready to. Then she was told all about how it was a safe place and rubbers were required for _everything_ and how the pay was great and after a couple weeks working Sam should be able to afford to move out.

Sam's head was spinning as she listened to her friend rattle on and on about Paul's Parlor. She made a solemn promise to herself that it would only be temporary, that she was just seventeen and she had time to find a more suitable job later in life.

Three years and a massive country-wide job shortage later, twenty year old Samantha Manson still worked at Paul's. Only now she lived in a swank little studio apartment in a slightly nicer part of the city. It wasn't the greatest part, but it was far better than Lydia's primo location right behind the parlor she worked at.

And Sam found the time to get her GED, a must have for all high school dropouts. Well, Lydia didn't have one. No matter what Sam told her, Lydia always laughed it up and claimed she wasn't the studious type and couldn't hack anymore school. Eventually Sam dropped the subject all together.

By this point Sam had seen all sorts of characters, most of them paying costumers. Some had tried to take advantage of her, some were ashamed, some were shy, some just did their business and left. She hated it. She hated the kind of people who came to her, but everyday on the news she heard about how there were just too many people and not enough jobs. It was either money or dignity, a source of income or the soup kitchen, an apartment or a box. The choice wasn't hard to make. Actually it wasn't much of a choice at all, was it?

Lydia and Sam talked often, you could even call them friends, but Sam tended to shy away from Lydia's crowd and made a point to stay away from the parties she frequented. She just didn't like people, why force herself to be surround by them needlessly? Sam spent her free time listening to the good kind of music that clubs just didn't seem to have, hanging out in dingy little coffee and tea cafés were people read poetry and played their hearts out in song, and going to book stores. She also put her energy in a newly developed passion for animal rights; she hated most humans, so it wasn't too surprising that she loved animals a little more. She was an ultra-recyclo vegetarian without question.

And she had a little black cat named Lilith who, in her opinion, was about as badass as cats got.

As bleak as her occupation was, Sam's over all life wasn't that terrible. Plus all the media hype her parents caused when she had left had died down ages ago. She was free from them. Her life fit in place. Still she wasn't that happy. She wasn't all shits n' giggles like her dear friend Lydia. She knew something was missing and she was _not_ about to start looking for it.

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**:AN:** Well, there goes the prologue. The following chapters will all be longer. So far the shortest is eight pages, the longest thirteen pages. Let's see how this goes, eh?

_**Please review!**_

I would really appreciate it!

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_-DRC-_


	2. Chapter One

**:AN:** It had been my original intention to post this on Halloween, but I'm going to be rather busy then so I figured today would be as good a day as any. Besides, I wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed! I was so happy with the response! So…

Thank you: Faith's Melody, Arin Ross, Rikagirls, N1cindyfan, Kairi2Sora, starshetland, Ginger Guardian Angel, and Summers Rage!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belongs to Butch Hartman.

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**Title: Spider's Web**

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_**Chapter One**_

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_In the security of the night,  
__Created quiet and out of sight,  
__Shrouded demons kill the lark,  
__Spider's web built in the dark_

_-_

One snowy winter night Sam Manson was making her way to her car when she slipped on the ice into a large snow drift. The snow drift actually turned out to be a person. He was ice cold and unconscious. A decent person would get him to a hospital. Sam on the other hand couldn't. The risk of them asking her _why_ she was in a place like _that_ at _that_ time of night while she lived on the _other_ side of town would not be good. Not to mention the fact that her attire would not help her story at all.

But as much as she didn't like people, especially guys, she couldn't leave him out there to freeze to death. Her only choice was to take him home with her. But do keep in mind it was well after one a.m. and she was very tired. She wasn't one for clear thinking in times of fatigue. However she did have the brains to search for identification. Bingo, his driver's license read "Daniel Fenton". She thought it odd that a guy who appeared homeless would have a driver's license, until she saw that it needed renewal over two months ago.

So she hauled the frozen guy home and let him thaw out in her bed while she snoozed on her couch. How exactly she had gotten him into her apartment not even she could remember. At that point it hadn't even occurred to her that he'd do anything but leave without question once he woke up. After all, most of the guys she'd ever met always left after they got what they wanted.

Dan Fenton was warm and comfortable. He didn't want to ever wake up. He was having the best dream about a raven haired beauty that purred in his ear when he ran his fingers through her hair. At about 9:30 he realized that he wasn't supposed to be this warm and cozy. His eyes shot open and he was greeted by the 'raven haired beauty' from his dream. He had been stroking a purring cat. The big question on his mind was '_Whose cat is this_?' And then '_Whose _bed_ is this_?'

He sat up and took a look around. He was in what appeared to be a decently furnished studio apartment. The décor was a little dark for his tastes, but he was warm and didn't care. Then he spotted the couch by the sliding glass balcony doors. There lay his supposed rescuer.

He couldn't get a clear view of the person as their face was covered by long black hair and a slender arm; the body was covered with thick blankets. Who ever it was looked more female than male.

So there he sat in an uncomfortable position. On the one hand he could wake her up and thank her… or something, and on the other he could sit in silence and wait for her to wake up, possibly feigning sleep or something… or maybe he could just leave without her noticing and leave a note of thanks? The last seemed the ideal plan of action as he hated uncomfortable situations, but it didn't work out.

The girl suddenly stirred and blinked awake. When she saw the bright blue eyes of the young man in her bed staring at her she fell off the couch with a cry of surprise. The cat jumped off the bed and toddled over to her. She untangled herself from the mass blankets that had fallen with her, shoved her hair out of her face. She tied it back with a black scrunchy that had been conveniently located on her wrist.

He tried not to stare too much. Her tank top and pj pants fit her small frame loosely and it all looked _very_ nice on her –to say the least. He forced his eyes to stay on her face and her lavender eyes. "Uh," he said intelligibly.

Sam rolled her eyes having gotten over the shock of his presence. "Normally this is the part where you thank me for saving your life." She brushed past the bed and walked into her small kitchen. He watched her as she opened some cupboards.

"Right," his voice cracked. It was then he realized how dry his throat and lips were. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for everything… uh?"

"Sam," she supplied. "You want some tea or something? Orange juice? Water?" She decided that this was her sort repentance for everything Lydia had done for her; she was passing on the favor to someone else… sans the job at the parlor. So she put her best front forward and decided to be nice, at least until the situation called for otherwise.

"Water would be great," he stood up and saw that his coat, shoes, wallet, and chain were missing. Then he saw them sitting by the door and he calmed down. "_Sam_."

"Okay," she looked him in the eye for a second. "Come on in here and get it." She gestured to the different cupboards and told him which held what and that he could help himself to some food if he wanted. "Your name is…" she struggled to remember, "Danny, right?"

"I go by Dan actually, but yeah, basically," he downed his second glass of water and then opted for some orange juice.

She eyed him as he chugged the orange liquid. "Nah, I think I'm going to call you Danny." He was far too boyish to qualify for something stuffy like "Dan".

He wiped his mouth and smiled at Sam. "As far as I'm concerned you can call me anything you want."

Sam's mouth flickered into a smile for a brief moment. "So how exactly did you get into that predicament?"

He nibbled at a plain piece of toast. It was all there was to eat seeing as this girl was seriously lacking in the tasty breakfast food department. She had no sausage, bacon, or eggs and her only cereal was something-'bran'… not too appetizing, especially since the only milk-like substance she had was soy. "It's sort of a long story."

Sam frowned at his plain toast. "You know, I've got some peanut butter or honey or something if you don't want to eat that plain. I keep it behind the cereal."

Ah, so that's why he didn't see it. "Thanks," he quickly grabbed a knife and lathered both on his remaining toast. When he sat down again Sam reopened the subject of last night.

Danny had come to the city looking for work. His parents couldn't afford to keep him in college any longer so he had headed to the city in hopes of finding a job. He had been staying with a friend while he was looking for work, but he left one day because he was tired of living off of someone else and one thing led to another which, in turn, led to his little nap in the snow drift.

Sam frowned deep in thought. If she had stayed home she'd be in a good college right now, away from her parents but still dependant on their money. She would never have had to do the things she was doing now if only she could have held on for another year. But again, she'd be dependent on them, and she had grown to hate the idea of that.

"You alright?" Danny asked when Sam continued to stare off into space with the frown on her face.

"Hmm?" she broke the trance. "Oh I'm peachy."

"Right," he cleared his throat and stood. "Well thanks so much for everything, but I don't want to impose so I guess I'll just take my things and…"

"Spend another night in the snow?" Sam finished.

"If that's what it comes to," he shrugged.

"Look, unless you go back to stay with your friend you're staying here." She left no room for argument.

"Why?" he asked, "I'm a complete stranger; I could be spouting off lies or just be trying to lure you into a false sense of security!"

Sam opened her mouth and closed it again. Why did she want him to stay again? She, Miss Antisocial… why? He made good points… but then she looked into his eyes, only for a second, but it was enough to reassure her. "Because I don't want to know that I went through all that trouble last night if it was only going to postpone your freezing to death by one day. Besides I deal with those kinds of guys for a living, you don't fit the bill." She just hoped he didn't ask what exactly it was that she did. She sent him an easy look.

Danny tried to think of a good comeback, but found none. "Fine, but just one more night, okay?"

"Fine," she shrugged. "I guess postponing your death by two days is better than nothing. And now that we've got that taken care of, do you want to clean up or something? I have a washer and drier you could use and some sweats you could borrow." He really looked like he could use it.

Danny, who hadn't had a chance to really get clean in a few days, eagerly took her up on the offer. Sam gave him the huge comfy sweats that she usually saved for days when she scorned the whole world save for her cat and didn't want to face it. Then she told him to throw his clothes just outside the bathroom and she'd put them in the wash.

Danny was very thankful for everything but still felt that tug of dread he had whenever he mooched off of people. His shower gave both him and Sam time to think about the current situation. Sam went so far as to admitting that it was kind of nice to have someone else around for once and that he looked scrawny, if he tried anything she could take him. And as for why she was so dead set on him staying at least one more day? While she didn't really like people that much and she wasn't very trusting, it didn't mean that she wanted them to freeze to death, especially someone who seemed to be just a kid in so many ways. He was too soft for the streets.

Of course she only just barely lasted six days herself and she had started out with $100 and had a car to sleep in. Eh, he didn't need to know that.

Danny relished the hot water. He loved the idea of being clean again. He hardly knew Sam, but she didn't seem the type to take crap from people. Plus she was nice. He remembered her reaction when she first saw him, he chuckled. She was human too. He liked her for these qualities and even envied her a little. It was probably that attitude of hers that allowed her to have a job in a time like this. Maybe where ever she worked had an opening? It couldn't hurt to ask. But that was where the problem lay. He hadn't told her, but he had come across some jobs. He was always fired. He didn't want to go into detail, so it was best he just never brought it up.

No, it was best he just got out of there. He figured out a while ago that there was no place for him. He was making great strides in coming to grips with that fact. Staying here too long would make him back slide. Besides, he shouldn't be so comfortable with a stranger anyway. Wait a second… why hadn't he just agreed to go back to Tucker's? He shrugged and decided that it was too late now…

When he was drying off he realized he had no shirt. So he threw on the sweats and wrapped the towel over his chest and was about to open the door when he caught sight of himself in the steamy mirror… _yeah_- no. He decided to lose the towel. He wasn't a chick and therefore had nothing to hide.

He poked his head out the bathroom door and saw Sam bobbing her head along to some vaguely familiar song, apparently lost in her own little world. He approached her and was about to say something when she looked up and jumped at the sight of him.

Let me just say that it wasn't only his sudden appearance that made her jump. He was lean and muscular, not the bulky kind- the _good_ kind. His neck and shoulders were still a little damp. He had a goofy sort of nervous smile on his face. It was so hot. And… oh God… the sweats were just a _little _too small.

Sam shook her head. Okay, so she was attracted to him. _Anyone_ could see that he was attractive. Plus it was her right as a female to be attracted to a guy. She left it at that. It would just be best for him to get out of there. Too bad she'd already invited (or rather, forced) him to stay another night. He stared at her expectantly… Oh God, had he said something?

"What?" Unfortunately her question came out a bit harsher than she would have liked.

He blushed. She felt a little bad and stared at the floor. "I was just wondering if you had a shirt or something I could borrow…"

Yes! A shirt! He needed a shirt! Sam had to get the man a shirt. "Sure." She forced herself to walk in a non-rushed pace to her dresser where she rummaged through the drawer until she found one. "Here you go." She held it out to him and he slipped it on.

Salvation!

Then she heard the washer shut off. She stuffed everything into the drier and tossed in a little fabric softener sheet, slammed the door shut, turned the knob and pushed the button. It roared into full on drying action.

Now that his chest was successfully hidden from view, Sam calmed down. "Um, help yourself to the TV, radio, fridge and stuff. I'm going to shower."

"Alright." Danny made himself comfortable on the couch and flipped on the TV. Sam disappeared into the bathroom. Sam must have really trusted him to be able to shower with him in the house. He was probably just reading too much into it. It's not like he looked very threatening.

He was completely taken by surprise when Sam waltzed out of the bathroom forty minutes later in nothing but a towel and just walked nonchalantly to her dresser where she proceeded to clip up her hair and dig through her drawers for clothes. Then she looked up and saw Danny with an interesting look in his face- to say the least. It was a mixture of nervousness, embarrassment and possibly a hint of lust. She was so used to showing her body that it didn't even occur to her to be modest, even after the whole shirtless-Danny incident.

"I'm making you uncomfortable, aren't I?" she arched an eyebrow. She noticed that he was now in his own clothes. The drier must have shut off while she was in the shower. Her sweats and shirt were folded up and on top of the washer.

"Uh, j-just a bit." He clutched a throw pillow.

"Sorry, I'm not used to having company. I'll just grab some clothes and be out of here." And she did and she was. Danny was just thanking God that she didn't see his hand phase right through the pillow and that nothing _worse_ was phased through...

When she came back out of the bathroom she was wearing black cargo pants, a black 'Electric Six' band t-shirt with a black long sleeved fish-net shirt underneath, and she was decorated with many bangles and bracelets. Her dark purple eye shadow and dark lipstick made her look very pale. He really wasn't expecting this sort of look out of the happy-go-lucky girl who had saved him. Apparently she was more of a mystery than he thought.

Sam noticed him staring and decided she didn't like it. "Take a picture, it will last longer."

"Oh sorry," he said. "I was just surprised is all…"

She looked down at her outfit, "What were you expecting, _pastels_?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. I just didn't take you for the 'dark' type."

"The _dark_ type?" she mimicked.

"You know, gothic, emo…." He shrugged again, "Whatever you want to call it."

"First of all," she said. "I'm Goth. If you have a problem with it, too bad."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, honest," he said. "That's the last thing I'd want to do after you've been so nice to me."

"Apology accepted," she plopped down on the couch next to him. "What are we watching?"

"Nothing much, I was just flipping through the channels."

"I see." She hugged her legs to her chest.

They flipped around from channel to channel until by a stroke of luck they landed at the beginning of Ghost Busters of which they both agreed to watch. They then fell into one of those hazy silences, not quite comfortable, and not quite uncomfortable. Danny decided to break it.

"So where do you work?"

Sam froze. On the one hand she could tell him the truth, on the other, she could lie. She decided to go with the happy medium. Not to lie, but to shy away from the truth and be vague then close the subject. Yeah, that would work. "Uh, nowhere important."

"Are you kidding me?" he asked. "In this day and age _any_ job is important."

"Well I just do a sort of freelance thing," she said.

"Really? Doing what?"

"I sell… stuff…" This hadn't gone quite as planned. It didn't help that she was just a bad liar in general.

"Oh cool." He actually bought it? Wow. "Hey, let me know if your supplier ever needs an extra hand, okay?"

If only he knew what he was saying… "Yeah… sure… I think she's got everything covered though."

"That's too bad," he said, folding his hands behind his head and staring blissfully into space. "Something freelance would be just perfect for me too."

Sam decided to reply with silence and just focus on the movie. It was getting close to the end and she didn't want to miss the attack of the 'Stay-Puff' marshmallow man.

When the movie had ended Danny decided to try his luck at conversation again. "So I told you where I'm from, what about you? Were you always here?"

"I'm not from anywhere worth mentioning," she said.

"Let me get this straight," he said. "You don't work anywhere important and you aren't from anywhere worth mentioning? If I didn't know any better I'd say you were being secretive."

"Look, I don't do anything important, and where I come from really isn't any of your business!" she protested.

She looked really familiar when she was yelling. "Can you at least tell me your last name?"

"It's Manson, why?"

He slammed his fist in his hand, "That's why you look so familiar! I saw you in the newspaper for that big animal rights protest that you led! And you said you don't do anything important."

"Oh," she said. "Yeah… well…I meant occupation wise… being an animal rights activist doesn't exactly pay well."

"Still though," he said. "It's pretty cool."

"Sure," she said deciding that it was time to turn the conversation from her job to his lack of job. "So, you have some college education… shouldn't that help with your job search some?"

"Umm," he said. '_Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap_…' "I'm just really… unlucky."

"No," Sam decided. "You're not unlucky; you're just a victim of the economy. Hmm," she grabbed the classified section from the newspaper that was sitting on the side table. "You say freelance is more your thing?"

He nodded.

"Well…" she scanned it for the word 'free lance'. "How are you with a camera? There's something here for freelance photography."

"Like Spiderman?" he asked, boyishly excited. Sam tried to contain a laugh, which resulted in a snort. Oh yeah, there was no way this guy could pull off "Dan". No way at all. "Sweet!" He grabbed the paper.

"Yeah," Sam smiled. "Just like Spiderman, except for the whole 'super hero' thing."

"Still though," he smiled, staring at the three line description, "I could finally have a use for those photography classes I used to take."

"Wait a second, so you really think you could do that?" she asked.

He nodded brightly, "Yup!"

"Wow, that's awesome," she said. "And to think I had been mostly joking. So… do you have a camera?"

"… No," he said. His moral sank.

Sam sighed. She couldn't believe she was going to say this, but… "Since you have the chance to make _oodles_ of cash, I'll be willing to _lend_ you the money for a camera."

"What? Really?" He hugged her. Her eyes widened and she sat stiffly in his embrace. He let her go and studied her expression. "Thank you so much! …But why are you doing this? We've only just met and you've been so nice to me. What I'm saying is… how can you trust me? …what if I didn't pay you back?"

"Oh," Sam smirked. "I'm not worried about that. You don't pay me back and I will hunt you down and make you regret the day you ever crossed Sam Manson."

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**:AN: **I really must say this isn't the greatest chapter, but I must mention that I was being purposely vague. You'll find out more about Danny and Sam's pasts in later chapters which should help explain a lot of the unclear areas. Anyway, everything starts out kind of light, but if you look hard you can she the dark undertones.

I'm hoping all the review questions have been answered in this chapter, but if not, or if you have more feel free to let me know!

Oh yes, and Happy Halloween!

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And I know this goes without saying but…

_**Please Review!**_

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_-DRC-_

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	3. Chapter Two

**:AN:** Well, I took a little longer than I would have liked to get this out… I haven't finished writing chapter 4, which was the whole reason for the delay. It's still not finished, but I figured I'd kept you all waiting long enough…

Review responses and whatnot have been placed at the end of the chapter…

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belongs to Butch Hartman.

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**Title: Spider's Web**

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_**Chapter Two**_

_-_

_Necessity's the motivation  
__For living in this secret nation  
__Impervious though it may appear,  
__Protective lies that we hold so dear_

_-_

Sam and Danny, now adorned in their thick winter coats, walked the street. There was a camera shop that Sam had known of; it was across the street from The Raven, a dark little café she was a regular at. They walked inside and Danny became like a kid in a candy shop.

Sam had the suspicion that Danny was better with cameras than he had originally let on, heck- he could even decipher between the different models and other random associated objects. Sam stood by the back wall after instructing him to find the best one he could. She watched him talk with the camera salesman in the random camera jargon. This dramatically increased the chances of him making money this way, she was pleased.

She then began to figure out how to keep track of this guy after she turned him loose. Maybe she could meet that friend of his. Hmm, that was actually a good idea. If she saw just where his friend lived she could easily keep track of him. If he didn't pay up she'd know where to go. Yes, it was a good plan.

It was funny though. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that he would pay her back without any reminders or asking. Still, it was nice to have a back-up. And… it might be a good way to… see him again. Damnit. Now she was getting all emotionally attached. He was just a guy she found in the streets. She hadn't even known him for twenty-four hours yet. This was stupid.

Sam brushed her musings away when Danny appeared in front of her. He had a big smile on his face and he eagerly led her to The One.

"Sam," he said. "I don't know how you found this place, but it's great! Just take a look at what I found!" He gestured to an array of cameras. She couldn't tell which one he wanted… but they were all priced around the same. Hmm, he'd need film too.

"Well, what can I say," she shrugged. "I'm a wealth of information. So which one do you want?"

He pointed to one covered in little knobs and lights and buttons that had a long barrel. It came with a strap and a case. It was reasonably priced at $450, or was it? She wasn't up on camera prices these days. When questioned about whether or not it was too much, Sam merely held up her hand and asked for a couple rolls of the appropriate film to go with. The film, she told him, was a gift to get him started.

That was unexpected. She had originally fully planned on making him pay her back for the film. She silently reprimanded herself as she and Danny walked down the sidewalk on the way back to her apartment. It was cut short however, by an unexpected and unpleasant run-in with a not-so-friendly co-worker of Sam's.

The offending girl smiled at Sam, or at least that's what any bystander would have thought. To Sam though, it was more like she was baring her teeth. "Samantha! _Doll_!" she greeted in a glossy voice. "What a nice surprise! (-Pause for power-) Who's the guy?"

"_Paul_," Sam grated impatiently, positioning herself in front of Danny. "He's… no one…What do you want?"

"_Fu-nny_ girl," she said as she bypassed Sam and went straight for Danny, "Hi, I'm Pau_lina_, and you are?"

"D-Dan," he said, taking Paulina's outstretched hand and shaking it lightly. "Nice to meet you."

Oh, Sam was raging. Why was he being all nervous and awkward around Paulina? She _was_ mostly clothed today, it being her day off and only about 20 degrees outside. Though, Sam noted distastefully, even in the cold winter weather, her stomach was showing and her coat was wide open. That slut. Why would he be so… unless… Danny liked her? Ok, maybe he didn't _like_ her, he didn't even know her. But he most certainly _was_ attracted.

Sam did not like that.

Paulina loved it; she could see Sam squirming. "Well, I hope to see you around _Dan_," she told him in a sultry voice, slipping a piece of paper into his hand. Sam caught a glimpse of it. It was the address to the parlor. This wasn't good, but she couldn't tell Danny for risk of exposure. Not that she should be ashamed or hiding it in the first place… it was just… less complicated this way.

Anyway, Paulina had floated away, leaving a cloud of cheap perfume in her wake.

"Who _was _that?" Danny asked in a daze. Sam wasn't sure if he even realized that she was there, but she answered him regardless.

"Paulina Sanchez," she spat. "The biggest bitch I have ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with. She manipulates men, breaks their hearts, and then laughs about it to her friends afterwards."

She wasn't sure just how much Danny heard, he was staring dumbly at the small strip of paper in his hand. _11053 Duncan Street_. She rolled her eyes and pulled him along by the wrist.

When they reached Sam's apartment she started to prepare a late lunch. Danny peered over her shoulder and made a face. "What are you making?"

"Salad," she replied while chopping up some red peppers.

"Doesn't salad usually have that leafy vegetable called lettuce?" he asked, wrinkling his nose at the mixture.

"What?" she looked him in the eye, "Haven't you ever seen alfalfa sprouts before?"

"I've _seen _them," he said in a way that suggested that was as far as he was willing to go with them.

"Let me rephrase the question: haven't you ever heard of _free_ lunch before?"

His mouth formed a small 'o', "Looks great Sam!" he said. "Can't wait for it!"

"That's what I thought," she went back to chopping. "So how's that camera of yours coming along?"

"Great," he said. "For being used, the quality is incredible. I can't thank you enough for the loan, let alone the film."

"It makes me wonder though," she said absently. "Why didn't you ever think of this on your own, if you like photography as much as you seem to?"

"I've been… preoccupied," Danny replied vaguely. "But you have no idea how much this will help me. If all goes well I might be able to get a place of my own."

"And until then?" Sam asked.

"Well," he said. "I guess I'll just work my ass off until I can pay you back and crash at Tucker's."

"Fantastic! By the way, for security reasons I think I should see you to this so-called Tucker's home," she said. "This way I can make sure you don't disappear on me."

"No problem," Danny smiled. "I was beginning to think you were a bit too trusting. You had me worried, especially in _this_ city."

Sam snorted. "Right; that just shows how little you know me. I just happen to find you harmless. I'm a very good judge of character."

"Then if you find me harmless, what's with wanting to track me to Tucker's?"

She glanced at the camera, then back at him. That seemed to answer his question.

"So… How do you know Paulina?" It was an innocent question… seeing as he really hadn't been listening to her bash the girl not an hour earlier.

Sam chopped a bit recklessly. "Through work," she said, but immediately regretting it. Suppose he went to the address on the little slip of paper? Suppose her secret came out? She didn't know why it mattered so much, but God damnit, it just did. She didn't feel like questioning her motives. Not yet anyway, but there was no turning back.

"She seemed… _nice_."

"Sure," Sam said, swinging the knife so hard it made a deep dent in the cutting board. "If your definition of nice is a small, yapping, biting, rabid poodle; she's extremely… _nice_."

"So I take it you don't like her much then," he said.

"Very observant, aren't you?" She tugged the now semi-stuck knife out of the board. It made her hand fly up a bit, but there were no casualties. She wouldn't let Paulina get to her- no, no, no.

Danny shrugged. "She seemed alright to me."

"Looks can be deceiving," Sam said darkly. "But don't take my word for it."

"So do you think I should go to this address?" He held up the paper.

"_NO_!" Sam cried. "I mean… _shouldn't_ you get your situation fixed up before you start chasing after girls?"

"While you seem a _little_ over concerned, you make a good point," he said. "I'm guessing it has to do with the camera."

"Yes, that's it, the _camera_," Sam smiled. If you wait long enough, the person you are trying to hide something from will always present you with the perfect alibi. It's a crappy thing, you've got to imagine, for the unaware supplier. Oh well, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

They ate lunch. Danny even made a point to choke down his free alfalfa sprouts. After that, the rest of the afternoon was rather lazy. Sam curled up with a book, and Danny got to work tinkering with his camera. He'd have to find a place to develop the film, but that wouldn't be too hard. He did have some connections among other things.

Soon though, Danny figured out the schematics of his camera and grew bored. He tugged at his hair. It was starting to get long. He looked at Sam who was so absorbed in her book. He squinted, but couldn't manage to read the title. Then he looked at the camera. And then at Sam again. And then his camera.

He figured he could use some target practice.

Sam proved to be the perfect unsuspecting prey. He approached her; she didn't pay him any attention. Then –click-FLASH-. She was hit –hard-. Apparently the flash disoriented her to the point where she fell of the couch. She seemed to do that a lot. Before she could protest he took another.

"Hey!" she cried. "What's the big idea!"

Danny smirked. "Well you've just been so kind to me I thought I'd just repay you by taking your portrait."

Sam did not look amused. She was lying on the floor, hair sprawled every which-way, legs still on the couch, what a _great_ photo-op. "Oh thank you so much. Now please put the camera down on the table."

"Why," he asked with a cocky grin still on his face.

"Because I fully intend on kicking your ass and I don't want to break it in the process," she stood quickly and grabbed a pillow. Danny put the camera down; she meant business. Her eyes were wild and so was her hair. You would think a pillow wouldn't be such a formidable weapon. He'd hate to meet anyone who _really_ crossed this girl. Their pillow battle raged on, but ended in laughter. They both sat out of breath on the couch.

"Oh God," Sam laughed. "I haven't done that since I was in elementary school."

"I can't even remember the last time _I_ did," Danny grinned. "I can't wait to see how those pictures come out."

Sam scoffed. "I'm sure they'll be _fantastic_. Nice way to waste film."

"Actually, I think that first one, you know before you fell of the couch, will turn out pretty nice." He shrugged. "I guess we'll see when I get around to developing them."

"Right, right," Sam waved it off. "So how are you going to get started in your picture taking? I mean, you know, the ones you are going to take for profit."

"Oh," he said fiddling with his camera strap. "I'll think of _something_."

Yeah, he'd think of something… like snapping a few pictures of those ghosts he usually ran into _everyday_. Any tabloid would be happy to have him. Wow, he really _was_ being like Spiderman… except without all that tacked on drama. Well, without some of it anyway.

"Ooh!" Sam cheered. "It's getting dark!"

"Yeah," Danny shrugged. "So it is."

"No," Sam said. "You don't get it!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him out on to her small balcony. All the city lights were coming on; it left an eerie glow specked with many colors diamonds. "Mmmm," she murmured, leaning over the side. "I remember seeing this my first night here."

"How long ago was that?" Danny took in the view. He was glad he had his camera. Sam and the city were proving to be excellent subjects.

"Oh, it's getting close to three years ago," she replied distantly. "Back when I was just seventeen."

"You lived on your own when you were just seventeen?" he asked, postponing his picture taking to stare at her with some disbelief.

"Problems at home." She smiled at him good naturedly as though she had just told him she was getting a puppy. Or a kitten. She didn't seem the dog type what with that cat running around. When she returned her focus back on the city, she signified to Danny that the subject was closed.

Danny couldn't pass up the opportunity. There she was; her silhouette in the city lights. She was dark and surrounded by light. He wondered if he'd just made a metaphor for her, but didn't know for sure because to be blunt, he didn't know her that well. Of course, a picture says a thousand words, doesn't it? He stared at her, she didn't notice. Her head was resting lightly on the palm of her hand. Her face was placid, but he could see something else. Was it sad? Was it lost? Was it regret? Was it hopelessness? Was it all of those things? He couldn't tell.

Maybe the camera could. He focused in and took her image.

She looked up, but it was a late reaction, she seemed to have been lost in thought. The picture was taken, she had been caught. Her look was weary, "No pillow fight," she said.

Danny shook his head. "No pillow fight."

She eyed him for a second, and then went back into her old position. Danny took another picture.

"What are you…?" She asked.

"Aww, please Sam?" he asked. He had such a pleading look.

"I don't see why you'd want to waste your film on me," Sam replied.

"What are you talking about? You're beautiful! The perfect specimen!" he declared.

"Right," she said. "I think the smog is getting to your head. Come on, let's go back inside." She opened the sliding glass door before Danny grabbed her hand and pulled her back. She lost balance and caught herself on his arm.

"Come on," he said. "What are you afraid of?"

Sam smirked. "Me? _Afraid_? Ha! I'm just trying to keep you from using all that film. Not only do I need to be paid back, but you need to make a life for yourself."

"Don't worry, there's plenty of film left. It's only a couple pictures!" he argued. "Besides, there is always tomorrow to get down to serious work."

"What's today but yesterday's tomorrow?" Sam retorted smartly. She continued smirking.

They became aware of how close together they were. Neither really minded. Danny positioned himself; he was going to kiss her. And who could ask for a more perfect moment? The light hum of traffic in the distance, the beautiful city lights, the fresh snow, and Sam. The girl, who had saved his life, found him a way to get a fresh start, and… and all in one day.

He leaned in. Sam leaned in. His eyes closed. Sam's eyes closed. And… and… Sam turned away and pulled herself inside. She was being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She couldn't get involved with Danny, and she most certainly wasn't going to have a one night stand with him. Danny apologized for being so forward. Sam silently wondered what kind of place he grew up in where _that_ was forward. She just told him it was alright and to just forget it. It was time to make dinner anyway.

The rest of the evening dragged on. Sam gave Danny the sweats he wore earlier to sleep in and she got back into her pj's as well. Danny insisted on taking the couch. Sam's protests were a bit lack-luster. She smiled though, when Lilith reappeared from her day of wandering and insisted on staying with Danny. Lilith was a good judge of character too.

Early the next morning, Sam got up and took her phone into the bathroom.

"Lyds?" she said. "It's Sam."

"Sammy?" the groggy voice replied. "What time is it?"

"I don't know… six?" she said. "Anyway, I'm taking a sick day and I was wondering if you could just cover for me today."

"Oh sure," she replied. "No problem, I owe you after last week anyway."

"Thanks, sorry for waking you."

"Again, no problem," Lydia said. "See ya later Chika."

Sam crept back out of the bathroom, hung up the phone, and went back to sleep. It was too bad for her that Danny was a light sleeper. He wondered what she was being so secretive about. Oh well, he would be leaving that day anyway. He went back to sleep.

When they finally decided to wake up for real, it was around ten. They lounged around for a while, discussing what the plan for the day was.

"Okay, so I'll just give you a lift to your friend's house, how does that sound?" Sam asked.

"That sounds fine," Danny agreed. "Oh, hey, I'm going to need your phone number though, so I can call you when I get your prints done."

Sam shook her head. "You can have the number, but I still don't see why you'd even bother with those." She grabbed a memo pad and a pen and scribbled it down.

"What are you talking about? They'll turn out great, you'll see," he assured her.

"Right," she said. "Whatever. So when 'you wanna take off? An hour or so?"

"That sounds fine," he nodded.

"Alright," she stood and stretched. "I'll just shower and get ready then."

If she got him out of there fast enough she might be able to get some work done. She was a bit short on cash at the moment as it were.

But then her doorbell rang. "Who could that be," she pondered as she walked over and answered it.

"Hey Chika!" The ever flamboyant Lydia enveloped Sam in a hug after she opened the door, well, she tried to. It was difficult with the two big brown paper bags she was carrying. "How ya feeling?"

"I'm f-fine," Sam replied a bit rattled. This was grand. She didn't think Danny was quite ready for someone like Lydia. Oh well, too bad, so sad.

"Well that's too bad; I brought something to make you feel better!" She said, pushing her way inside. "My famous 'get-well-soon' tofu stir-fry!"

"You know you need no special occasion to make that," Sam grinned. So she'd be postponed for a while and Danny would be forced to endure her. Who cared as long as she got yummy stir-fry?

Lydia finally caught sight of Danny. "Oh," she said. "So _that_'s why you didn't want to come into work today." She winked and nudged Sam.

"It's not like _that_!" Sam declared. "I found him half-frozen in a snowdrift the other night and let him stay here to thaw out for a while. He's leaving today."

"Oh," Lydia pouted. "Are you _sure_ nothing happened? It could have been like one of those romance novels, you know?"

"_No_!" Sam spared a glance in poor Danny's direction. He looked a little put-on-the-spot. Oh well. She had to shower… and the stir-fry had to be made… Danny and Lydia could stand to be on their own for a while, couldn't they? Sure they could… though she had a hard time forcing herself the believe it. "Look, why don't you get started on that… and I'll just go jump in the shower real quick." Then she whispered to Lydia, "Don't tell him anything about _work_."

"No problem," Lydia winked.

"Danny, you'll be okay, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he said weakly.

"I thought you had a shower to take," Lydia grinned. "Go already, your little boy toy and I will be just _fine_ together."

Sam rolled her eyes but left nonetheless.

"So," Lydia said, slipping out of her coat and putting the bags down in the kitchen. "Danny, right?"

"I go by Dan actually," he said as a reflex.

"Hmm, but Sammy called you Danny," she observed. "You didn't correct _her_."

Danny shrugged. "Sam saved my life. She could call me Barney as far as I'm concerned."

"I see," Lydia started emptying the contents of the bags out on to the counter. "Oh, I'm Lydia, by the way. I guess Sam's not used to giving introductions; she doesn't associate with many. Just a few cool people like me."

"Really?" he asked. "That's weird, she's nice."

"I know that and you know that," she shrugged. "It will just be a while before the rest of the world figures that out. So… you must be a nice guy for her to keep you around. She's not one for good deeds to the human race."

"I guess I'm a nice guy," he shrugged. "I sure as hell don't know how I'm going to repay her for everything."

"Yeah, you know it's funny, I kinda saved Sam a few years back. She was seventeen and fresh on her own. She was broke when I ran into her; she'd been away from home for like a week." Lydia started to prepare the food. "I talked her into staying with me. She did for like a month." She frowned. "Sometimes I wonder if I should have talked her into going home. 'She ever tell you about her home?"

Danny shook his head 'no'.

"It's a sad story, really. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've heard worse, but a girl like Sam…" she paused. "Anyway you should see if you can get her to tell you about it sometimes."

"Sure," he said.

Lydia looked at him, and pulled out the wok. "Sam's right. You can't pull off 'Dan'."

"She told you that?" he asked.

"No, but if she refuses to call you that, it's because she doesn't think it fits you," she explained. "Make sense?"

"I guess," he said. "But if you don't mind me asking, what's wrong with 'Dan'?"

"Dan is the name of some 40 year old broker with a wife, kids, and a drinking problem," she said. "I've met plenty of 'Dan's' in my life; you don't fit the bill. But it's not like Danny isn't a good name. Its fine, in fact it's perfect for you. You are a _total_ Danny."

"Uh, thanks I guess."

Lydia started chopping up the veggies when she spotted the camera. "Oh," she said. "_Sna_-zzy. That yours?"

"Oh, the camera?" Danny asked. "Yeah, that's mine. Sam lent me the money for it. I have no job and I have experience with cameras… so I'm going to become a freelance photographer. I think I might be able to make some money off it and pay Sam back in no time."

"Hey Danny?" Lydia said after a moment of silence.

"Yeah?"

"Sam's a really great girl, I mean personality wise you can find no better… and you have to admit she's _hot_." Danny wondered where exactly she was going with this. "But she's not perfect. Just don't expect her to be perfect, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

Lydia sighed and paused with her cooking for a moment. "We've all got our secrets Danny. You can understand that, right? Sam's is… well… it's a secret just like everyone else has got. You can't go blaming her for things. She does the best she damn well can and she… never mind. …But you can relate, maybe… right?"

"I can relate," he replied to her unexpected outburst. What was it Sam was hiding? He felt obligated to stay out of it though, not only had she been one of the nicest people he'd ever met, he too had a secret that he wasn't willing to tell. "Don't worry. I can relate."

Lydia smiled at him then got down to work. Sam would be done with her shower soon.

"Wow," Sam said when she emerged from the steamy confines of the bathroom. "It's quiet in here. Nothing happened while I was in the shower, did it?"

"Oh no," Lydia grinned. "I just got preoccupied with cooking here. By the way, it's almost ready. You should get dressed!"

"You don't have to tell me twice." Sam quickly pulled some clothes from her dresser and raced back to the bathroom.

'_Aww_,' Lydia thought. '_She's being modest and everything_!'

They ate their lunch and afterwards Lydia left in the flurry she arrived it. Danny and Sam were alone again before they knew it.

"You need to call your friend?" Sam asked as she started her dishwasher.

"Yeah, that would probably be a good idea," Danny said, making his way to the phone. "It shouldn't be long distance so…"

"Go ahead and use it," Sam told him. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want you to."

Oh God, just a couple short hours and she could go back into the mundane routine of her normal crazy life. A life where Danny Fenton didn't crash on her couch and make her feel things she shouldn't be feeling.

"Tuck?" Danny said on the phone. "It's me Dann-" Those girls, they almost made him _want_ to refer to himself as Danny now. But he wouldn't, not yet anyway. He'd try and hold on to Dan, just a little bit longer.

"Danny!" Oh great. Now Tucker was in on it too. "Where have you been, man? I've been worried sick! I thought for sure you'd be an icicle by now."

"Wow Tuck, your faith in me is astounding," he remarked dryly, "Albeit not that far from the truth. Actually I did almost freeze to death, but this girl named Sam took me in and… anyway, because of her I decided to go back and stay with you, but this time I know it will just be temporary… I'll explain it when I get there… supposing I'm still welcomed."

"You know you are always welcome at my place man," he said. "When you gonna get here?"

"How ever long it takes to get from Sam's to your place I guess. She lives off Main Street so I think it's only a couple miles away."

"Ah," he said. "Sweet. So… this Sam person is a girl? She hot? Did anything _happen_ between you two?"

"Shut up," Danny growled light heartedly. "I'll see you _when I get there_. Later."

"Later man."

You know what was funny? Sam pondered. Danny had been on the verge of freezing to death… shouldn't he be sick about now? Shouldn't he at least have a cold? A cough? A sore throat? Anything? As this occurred to her it baffled her. He must have been the picture of health… or he broke into her cough medicine and was a master at hiding symptoms. Whatever. _Whatever_. He was leaving. She was taking him to his friend's house. He would be almost completely out of her life, save for the $450 he owed her. She groaned. Why was she constantly sabotaging herself by subconsciously keeping him around? No, no, no!

"Ready to go?" Sam asked.

Danny nodded.

They grabbed their coats and shoved off. Danny had never seen Sam's car before. The black Jetta was in reasonably good condition, the insides were carefully maintained. He noticed a blue tarp folded up in the back, which was odd since her building had a parking garage. Maybe she needed it for work? He didn't know.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I made you miss work today," he said.

"Nah," Sam said. "Don't even worry about it. I've been working over time as it is." The car pulled out of the garage and Sam turned to Danny again. "I have no clue where I'm going so any help would be great."

"Oh," he said. "Right… I mean, left. Take a left and go until 33rd Street, then take a right."

And they were finally off.

Eventually the duo found themselves in front of the Noir Ville, a classy little apartment building in the nice part of downtown. "Nice place your friend's got here," Sam commented.

"Yeah, he snagged a high paying job at Micro-Tech after two years at a small tech college," Danny shrugged. "He's pretty down to earth though. You wanna come up and meet him?"

Sam was about to refuse, but the look on his face told her that he really wanted her to. In spite of herself, she agreed. _Fantastic_. Just how had this boy got her wrapped around his finger so fast? Did he even realize it? Oh God. She was thinking about their almost-kiss last night. Stupid, she was acting like a stupid hormonal teenage girl. But he had been so sweet to her; the way he looked at her was like no other guy had ever looked at her. It was nice… it was so… _not_ going to happen. No self respecting guy would love a girl like her, and she wasn't going to let him think he could. She wasn't going to let herself think he could.

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**:AN:** I know next to nothing about cameras, so please don't mind the guess work. Haha, I feel kind of bad about the teasing… Hopefully you'll all forgive me in time. Oh, there's more to Paulina than meets the eye… I won't say anything more than that.

**Review Responses:**

**Summers Rage:** Well, they haven't met before… but next chapter you'll find out a connection they share involving a certain month about three years prior to their meeting. I hope this chapter answered your question in relation to Danny's ghost abilities… if not the next one will.

**Winged Dreams:** Yay! I'm glad you think this story is "awesome"! Haha, I put the Spiderman illusion there on purpose. I'm glad you caught it! I sincerely hope you haven't exploded yet!

**Kuki Salazar:** Don't worry; 'Dan' is slowly but surely being replaced… LOL! Besides, I wrote this chapter way before I saw TUE, so it has no connections with that. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

**Additional Thanks To: ****nigmatic penguin** **N1cindyfan,** **dArkliTe-sPirit****, Ginger Guardian Angel, ****Nakira Ayame Outsuno****Lightning Streak****… **

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Thanks so much for reading!

_**Please Review!**_

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-DRC-

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	4. Chapter Three

**:AN:** Sorry about the delay, but I was very stressed out for the past few weeks and am only now starting to unwind. But never fear, Winter Vacation is on the horizon and with it gobs and gobs of free time… supposing my job doesn't decide to bombard me with hours… We'll see how that goes.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belongs to Butch Hartman.

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**Title: Spider's Web**

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_**Chapter Three**_

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_Delicate lies woven in tight_

_Deception meant to block the light_

_Protection in demonic cloak_

_In chilling cries our bones do soak_

_-_

Danny and Sam made their way up to the tenth floor. _Tucker Foley_, the plaque on apartment number 10-A read. Tucker Foley, best friend of Danny Fenton. She wondered what he'd be like. Danny knocked on the door; it swung open immediately, as though the person on the other side had been waiting there the whole time.

"Danny!" He cried. He pulled the boy into a hug.

"Hey Tuck," Danny wheezed in the 'manly' bone crushing embrace. "Mind letting up?"

"Oh right," he said sheepishly. "Who's the babe?"

"This is _Sam_," he said sending Tucker a look that said specifically 'not _babe_'. "Sam, this is Tucker, leader of the geek squad, king of all things electronic, and ruler of the internet nerd community."

Sam cracked a small grin and stuck out her right hand. A costume she realized she hadn't used since that day she first met Lydia. Last time it ended in friendship. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," Tucker said, shaking her outstretched hand. "It's always a pleasure to meet Danny's knight in shining armor."

"Ah, so he told you," Sam concluded with nod.

"Yup," he said. "And I insist you come in and hang out, we can go get dinner tonight, me you and Danny. My treat! It's the _least_ I can do!"

"Not that I don't think that's a great idea," Danny said. "But do you have to make it sound like she returned your long lost child?"

"Ha," Tucker laughed. "Sorry man."

"I really shouldn't…" Danny gave her _that look_ again. Damnit. "But alright," she shrugged. "What can it hurt?"

"Excellent! Oh, right, come in! Sorry to keep you standing out here!" He led them inside. It was nice. The furniture was contemporary, as was the décor. The walls were a warm, rich, inviting red color and the carpet was a contrasting, pristine white. The main room showed absolutely no signs of life.

Then she was led into the "game room". Oh, so that's where they lived. The carpet was stained in places, the couch was laid back and comfy looking, and the TV was huge, as was the movie and game selection. It looked like this room had gone through absolutely no decorating at all. It was like he just moved in and this was the first room he wanted done, so didn't bother with the details.

And there was Tucker. He looked very… _nice_, she guessed. His clothes were… _nice_. He carried himself… _nicely_. There was no other way to describe the boy. But she figured he was probably a lot like his apartment, the outsides, what everyone saw, was pristine, nice and orderly, but on the inside he was probably more like his game room, behind closed doors… which featured the newest games on the market and a general disregard for anything '_nice_'.

They had a good afternoon together. They talked like friends talked, they watched movies, and they discovered a couple things. One thing being that Tucker was an avid carnivore, only eating green things when he absolutely had to. And he discovered Sam's ultra-recyclo vegetarian life style. They clashed a bit, but they got over it. It was weird; the three of them together was like an instant click; a match of friends like they had been searching for the last corner of their triangle all the time and finally found it.

Sam never thought she could make friends so easily, let alone with guys… seeing as she hated most guys and a whole lot of girls too for that matter. There was no doubt in her mind that it wouldn't last, but she tried not to think about it. For the time being, she told herself, she'd enjoy that feeling of belonging. It was so rare; she figured she deserved it… if only for a little while. After all, it was only a matter of time before things were ripped out into the open.

Danny still had that address and who was she to tamper with fate?

She would make the ride down worth it.

Tucker admitted to originally planning to take them all to a steak restaurant, but after learning about Sam's preferences and her being the woman of the hour, they opted instead for Italian. It was the best of all worlds. Plus it was fattening and yummy.

And if you ordered right it could be expensive. But Sam wasn't one to exploit random acts of kindness.

Throughout the course of the festivities it was discovered that Sam's twenty-first birthday was in two weeks. Both Danny and Tucker had already turned twenty-one four months prior (their birthdays were two weeks apart) and told her that if she didn't have plans they'd be happy to do something with her. She was touched by the information, especially since her usual birthday powwow with Lydia had been postponed this year because of a concert that was going to be in town only one night that Lydia had been dying to go to. It wasn't Sam's thing, so she bought the ticket for her friend, forcing her to go and not giving her a chance to refuse. The point was Sam was free for whatever they could dish up.

They were thrilled when she told them that.

"Sam, after all you've done for Danny, along with the fact that I find you kind of cool," Tucker said. "I promise to provide you full on primo twenty-first birthday action. Limo rides, drinking, party hats, the works."

"Party hats?" Sam asked.

"No hat, no partying," he said firmly. "It's the rule."

"Damn conformity!" she cried dramatically before cracking into a grin. "Alright, fine. I'll wear the stupid hat."

"Then it's settled!" Tucker declared.

Danny leaned towards her, "Don't be alarmed if he seems more excited about your birthday than you do. He likes flaunting his company perks… he feels it supplements for his _other_ deficiencies… and is a good way to pick up girls."

"You know Danny," Tucker warned. "Nobody invited you. You _don't have to_ come along."

The night continued in this fashion, the joking around and laughing. Sam didn't get home until well after midnight. But tomorrow she would forget it all. It was back to the grindstone. The joke Lydia had made all those years ago didn't seem amusing anymore. Not that it ever really was.

Sam was furious with herself, letting herself slip like that. It was stupid. Why was she being so stupid? She'd seen it, girls just like her thinking they'd found a way out. But when the truth came out, that's when you found out who your real friends were. It was always a disappointment.

They all ended up alone and broken, they became useless to everyone. The parlor couldn't take girls in if they didn't attract customers. It was just plain economics, nothing personal. Nothing was _personal_ anymore.

Sam promised herself she wouldn't be stupid like them, she promised herself she wouldn't break. She wouldn't break. She couldn't break. And here she was, making all the same mistakes they did. They always claimed it was different for them, but it never was. It followed the same cycle; they kept their darker sides secret, found 'great' people who could get them a way out, and then when they finally came clean… they were dumped. Given the cold, hard shaft.

Those who survived it could survive anything. They became cold, hard, mean. They didn't just glare at you, they glared. They just glared. Nothing was good anymore, it just was. But those who survived didn't really survive. They were just too afraid to let go, but too afraid to hold on. They stayed in limbo.

Those that didn't survive… they got out

…in a hearse.

That was the only way out.

Sam didn't want death, she didn't want limbo. She was in a good place, a better place at the very least. She had hope, but she had doubts too. Most importantly, she knew that no one could save her from her life; she was stuck with it. She was going to fight for it tooth and nail.

It was a delicate weave of lies those unfortunate girls created. When one strand broke, the whole structure would fall down in a heap, bringing them with it. It was the very worst way to go; sad and alone, without any hope. She'd heard of the anguish, she'd seen the break downs at work, she'd witnessed the girls getting carried out kicking and screaming, clawing for a life that they could never have. Clawing for the only life they wanted to live… clawing then giving up. They curled up to death like an old cat in the basement.

But… it never helped to dwell on the downside. It was best to just… be numb. There was nothing else. There was nothing else for her. She had to do it; she had to do a damn good job at it or literally die trying.

Why was she being so stupid?

Why couldn't she be a vixen like Paulina? Men always knew with her, there were no secrets. They didn't care, or the more stupid ones thought they could "save her". She crushed them all under her stiletto encased manicured feet. She never got hurt. Never.

But Sam didn't want that, no, the very thought was disgusting. Paulina Sanchez was a disgusting creature. She was no example. Just because it thrived didn't mean it was good. Take viruses for instance. They killed so as not to be killed. Maybe that was the only way, but that wasn't Sam's way. She wouldn't hurt anybody to protect herself. She couldn't do it.

So what if she marched on closer to her own demise everyday? What was so great about the alternative? What was the alternative? She didn't know anymore. She had a head ache. She took a few aspirins and shoved all the thoughts away. It was one p.m. She had to go to work. _She had to go to work_.

That's all it was; _work._

Sam's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Manson didn't love each other. They made that perfectly clear to Sam at least. The everyday fighting was only just one of the many signs of her deteriorating family. Her father spent more and more nights elsewhere, anywhere but his old home with Sam and his wife. Her mother cried almost every night. It got to the point where no one could look Sam in the eye.

But they held it together.

They were wealthy. They were the example of Amity Pines, a rich suburb of the city. They held fancy parties and business dinners, they smiled for cameras and they looked appropriate, as far as Sam thought, in the newspapers that covered her disappearance.

Apparently her case was common. It had been concluded that those who didn't want to be found in the city weren't found. Sam never wanted to be found.

It's not that she ran away so much as she initiated the family's separation. Neither one wanted the responsibility of raising a daughter like Sam alone, so they stuck it out together. They hated it. They all hated it. It made no sense to Sam why they should stay together for her sake when it clearly did them no good.

She would lay awake some nights listening to the muffled sounds of her father's yelling and her mother's crying. She would cry some nights too. She cried harder when she realized that no one could comfort her. Her family was broken and it was breaking her.

And they didn't listen to her.

Try as she might they just didn't listen. No, they said, she didn't understand. She was only a teenager, it was complex adult issues. They wanted her to have no part in it, and yet they forced her to. They didn't understand. She didn't understand.

Verbal communication failed her.

She tried to get closer to them, her parents. She realized soon enough that that wouldn't work. She tried to get close to her mother, every time they spoke her mother went tight lipped and glossy eyed. There was no reaching her, that woman whose life work was now falling apart around her. She had been the wife and nothing more. Her father faired no better. He wouldn't get close to her, he was too busy... far too busy for his daughter and wife. Not too busy, though, for his secretary. It's always the secretary, isn't it?

Emotional attachment failed her as well.

Her parents needed a wake up call. She needed to take care of herself or forever live life as a broken girl, daddy's little rich girl. She would be sent to some nice college far away. She wouldn't come home on vacation, not until her mother was situated in a new house, separated from her father, but still living off his pay check. Quiet and out of the way. That's where her family was headed. That's where she was headed. Quiet and out of the way.

She left them a note.

Dear parents,

As I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not here, in fact I'm gone. Point being, I'm not coming back. Look for me all you want, you won't find me. You don't want to find me. I'm seventeen, not stupid. I see what's happening here, to all of us. You know as well as I do that this is in all of our best interest.

Enclosed is another note from me for you to give to the press. If you're smart you'll burn this and no one will have to know your secret, the one I can't and won't be a part of anymore.

_Samantha Elizabeth Manson _

She had considered talking to her parents about this, but she could see the scenario play out in her head as clear as day. Her mother would break into sobs and her father would step in.

"Damnit, Deloris," he'd say. "If the girl wants to go so bad then let her!"

What he really would have meant was: _if Sam feels she can just take for granted everything we do for her, then let her go out on her own, let her see just how she likes it_. But the way he said it let him curse at his wife. He would go to great lengths to do that, especially in Sam's presence… even if that wasn't true, it happened enough to make anyone believe it could be.

That was her father. The fucking father of the year.

She'd seen her pictures in the October papers, an older picture, one that hardly resembled her anymore. They were smart, her parents. There was also a picture of them breaking apart, crying and clinging to each other, demanding that someone find their daughter, their only child, little Sammy. Oh, what good acting. No one seemed to notice that, in spite of their wealth, they never offered a reward.

So was it any wonder at all that she left? Her parents had the perfect alibi for breaking up. The emotional distress of their missing daughter drove them crazy with grief; they couldn't face each other. They separated because of Sam. Sam wasn't there, blame her.

Blame everything on Sam.

But she wasn't there to take the blame. She was away. She was living her new life.

She was living a new life, a life she wasn't entirely sure was any better than her old life. But it was a change. Change can be like starting over, and starting over is like having a new, refreshing life. And refreshing is good.

But all things fade. This new life high was coming down. It was crashing down. Sam was being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Somewhere out there someone screamed. Just one more day that it wasn't Sam herself.

Just one more day. Just one day at a time. She had to take it slow now. She had to breathe now. Three years. She was stronger than this; this was just a back slide. She was being stupid. She would get better. She always did.

Not like she had a choice.

Sam Manson worked and she got paid. Just like normal people worked and got paid. She was no different. They were all slaves in some way or another, toiling for something that didn't concern them to make a buck that somehow tied them all in.

She was starting to sound like a conspiracy freak. Long live capitalism. Long live 'the man'. Long live…

She was going through so many highs and lows these days. Maybe she was bi-polar? And maybe this was all a dream. Some horrid nightmare she'd wake from and laugh at a couple days later... as if that could happen.

Danny was lucky to have a friend like Tucker; they'd know each other a long time. They probably didn't have any secrets. They could relate to each other, they had fun together. They were best friends. They were nice people.

Sure, she had something similar with Lydia. They were friends, but they didn't talk about certain subjects. It wasn't exactly that they kept secrets; there were just some issues they didn't cover. Home life, for one; they had both been there. Sam had, when they first met, told Lydia all about the crap she'd put up with from her parents, but she was angry. It's easy to say things when you're angry.

But talking about it incessantly wouldn't help, they knew it wouldn't help. And just like home, they didn't talk about that gleam of pain they each held in their eyes. They both knew where it came from. Why talk about it? Why bring it up? How could that help? How could that possibly fix anything?

One time Lydia apologized to Sam. She never did say what it was for. Sam never asked.

They never got so close to talking about it again.

Those girls were like spiders. They spun beautiful webs of silk; they wrapped it around their prey, the lived on it, thrived off of it. And when the web broke so did their livelihood. It was a dangerous way to live, but it was their only choice.

Everyday was spent feverishly trying to keep their webs maintained. One mistake and they were dead.

It was tragic, but they had no time for tragedy. It was life as usual for the spiders, the parlor girls, the night walkers, street callers, bed warmers… they were all the same, united with the working man in the endless struggle for life. They were all connected through their delicate web spun over the jagged peaks, their safety net. No one on the web knew what lay at the bottom. Those who found out never returned.

And so it was their everyday life. There was nothing to be done about it. Nobody cared. Nobody cared. Nobody could afford to care!

The Fenton's cared for their son; he had been in an accident… a lab accident. No one knew for sure how it happened. Danny hadn't woken up yet, though they had been assured he'd make a full recovery. They stayed by his side.

It had been just a week and a half before Halloween when it happened. One and a half weeks before Halloween, he had been normal. After that, his picture had been plastered all over the papers. He was no longer Danny Fenton; he was _The Boy in the Accident_.

They had questioned his parents, demanded to know what kind of environment they were providing for their children. Danny told them. Danny set them straight. He knew all the dangers. He was just eighteen and stupid. He knew he wasn't supposed to be in the machine, hell, the lab for that matter. And yet he was.

He was the golden son, sticking up for crackpot parents with crazy theories about ghosts. It was a rough time for him to be in an accident too. He had been visiting home for the weekend during his first year in college. He missed classes for a week. He was excused though; the accident could happen to anyone… whose parents had a ghost lab in the basement.

His parents would no longer be able to afford to send him to college for his last two years. And neither could Danny. There were no more loans available at that point, or grants, and he'd used up all his financial aid. He'd have to go backwards and finish in community college. But that didn't work out, he had nowhere to go, he refused to go back home and be a burden on his family. It wasn't like there were any jobs back at his old home town anyway. And he _needed_ a job.

That's how he came to live with Tucker, along with the fact that his parents didn't know about the… _side effects_ of his little lab accident. Tucker was the only one who really knew how it happened, being interested in science and all. He tried to explain it to Danny, but it never succeeded in getting through his head. He was half ghost; his DNA was fused with ghost ectoplasm.

He was a weird, walking lab experiment gone wrong. And since his accident in his parents machine (which hadn't worked before hand), the ghost portal (the machine in question) was working, letting in ghosts like crazy. Now Danny had enemies and a major separation factor from the rest of the human race.

He was a freak. Everyone was afraid of ghosts.

Tucker excluded, but he was weird too and used to it. They saw them almost everyday. He was lucky when he was with Sam though. His ghost senses didn't go off once, which was odd, but a blessing.

Sam. How to describe her? He'd never known anyone like her in his life. She was different, darker, and possibly a little passionate? She was fun too, and nice… to him at least. From what he gathered she didn't have many close friends, much like Danny himself who really only had Tucker and a couple other acquaintances.

And then there was that secret of hers.

What exactly was she hiding? What did it have to do with that secret early morning phone call the other day?

Maybe if he told her his secret, she'd tell him hers. But he had to be realistic. Who knew how she'd react? It might ruin whatever it was he had with her. Sure, he'd only known her a couple of days, but that didn't mean he wanted to go and blow it.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss her. He wondered what would have happened if she hadn't stopped their 'almost-kiss'. Where would they be, exactly? Why had she stopped it? She leaned in too; it wasn't like she didn't want to… Well, she must have not wanted to… but she… Man, girls were so confusing. And he really wanted to kiss her too.

Why had she changed her mind like that? Why had she stopped herself? Why? He wanted to figure this out, he wanted to figure Sam out; map her like he had the ghost zone… except, you know, figuratively… and with words… and… you get the idea.

He figured it would be the perfect time to sneak into the dark room back at Stetson University. It was late at night; nobody would be there to walk in on him. And he could most certainly get in there easily enough. Being half ghost did have its moments.

He set everything up and helped himself to the supplies in the room. It wasn't stealing, he figured. His family had shoveled out enough money for this school already.

He watched as her face slowly appeared in the liquid. At first it was light, the outlines of her face as she stared out. It was crisp, straight, in order, a tough looking figure of a face. But then it filled in a bit, her soft, light skin contrasted the harsh, fast paced background. The swirls of lights from the streets below and the illuminated buildings created a picture of life. The stoic figure of Sam looked frozen in place, unmoving, unyielding. It was like she was stopped in time forced to watch the world pulse and live without her, like she was in a separate world.

Her eyes were glossy and tired looking, her eyebrows were furrowed in thought; her lips rested in a natural slight frown. She was thinking, what about Danny didn't know. One slender, pale arm cupped her chin, the other served as her support, keeping her other arm upright against the balcony rail. They were wrapped in fishnets, bangles and rings. It was stand offish, as though to protect her arms from any offending force or possibly just the cold weather. She was stand offish in general, he noticed.

Even her posture in the picture was shrunken away, secretive, protective. He studied her face, and then Danny remembered what Sam had told him before… "_Take a picture, it will last longer_."

'_A picture says a thousand words_,' Danny thought. '_I'm going to have to take a lot more to even get a dent into who this girl is_.' He nimbly lifted the delicate picture from the liquid and hung it in the back of the others, out of sight. Nobody would bother it.

-

**:AN:** Well… bleh. I think my writing style is changing, a good change, but it's making previous chapters look… well, bleh. I'll probably end up re-writing or editing them at some point (no changes to the plot or anything crazy like that though.). Not sure when that will happen, this is just a heads up.

-


	5. Chapter Four

**:AN:** Okay, so I must ask… how do you guys like the poem thingy? I consider myself to be something (big something, little something… something nonetheless) of a poet and as I wrote this poem (the stanzas of which start off each chapter) for this fic, I would love some feedback…

I radiate love to all my reviewers. You guys are pretty flippin' sweet, I hope you know. And very, very kind.

To everyone else, thanks for visiting and possibly reading. I just love the fact that people read this thing at all!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belongs to Butch Hartman.

-

**Title: Spider's Web**

-

_**Chapter Four**_

_-_

_Strand by strand and layer by layer_

_It is built with scrupulous care_

_One foul step and all is lost,_

_Is so little worth such cost?_

_-_

It grew steadily in Amity City. Three years ago an influx of ghost sightings were reported. At first it prompted the visitation of thousands of tourists. Everyone wanted to see the most haunted city in the United States. At first it was a country wide joke. Then things got dangerous. Yes, the "thrill seeking" still came and poked their noses in the mysteries of the haunted city, but majority shied away. Ghosts weren't family friendly after all.

It was suddenly clear that the ghostly visits were no hoax. Oh to be sure there were many who couldn't bring themselves to believe out of personal morals or denial, but something was amiss in Amity City. Something horrible was clearly brewing.

This ominous feeling manifested itself in the explosion at the Axion plant. A malfunction of some sort, the assumed cause set off a chain reaction of mini explosions, killing twenty total and injuring some untold hundreds. While there was no evidence as to the cause behind the explosion, all those who witnessed (and survived) told eerily similar tales of a sadistic man with ghostly attributes. The accounts of the disaster were dismissed as nothing more than an illusion; something that could have been mistaken for a 'ghostly figure'.

But those who saw it would never forget those blood-red leering eyes or the sadistic laugh that echoed through the corridors only moments before.

The factory never reopened. It was never replaced. It was left abandoned, half demolished on a closed off hilltop peering down on its haunted counterpart, Amity City. It was an ugly, towering, black gash on the otherwise pristine city skyline.

Thousands lost their jobs and livelihoods. It was such terrible timing for such a catastrophe. So many were unemployed and so few jobs were available. Those displaced in the equation were forced to leave their homes in the city or surrounding suburbs and seek fortunes elsewhere. Those that didn't or couldn't leave were condemned to live as waifs among the ruins of what had once been the center of their lives. It was a scar on the city, a blemish and constant reminder that something evil was lurking somewhere not far off.

Amity City prided itself on being so successful in such a dark time in the nation's history. Viewing the city from that demolished hillcrest one would not dare have an opposing conjecture. From this elevation the city was beautiful. Its lights glittered like multicolored diamonds among the bustling cityscape.

But upon closer inspection one could see nestled in the crevasses between the rising buildings the homeless, the wanton, the sinners, and the down on their luck. All pushed off to the side –pushed into the shadows- so as not to hamper the city's stunning reputation which had gone through so much work to repair and move on from that devastating explosion. It was a city of imperfection. It was a city of danger. It was a city of secrets and lies. Deceit.

But it all _looked_ so good, so promising. It was therefore, above all a city of hope.

-

She stood alone in the dark. Reflecting, she stood reflecting on the day, on the week, on her life. She let her legs give way under neither her; falling to, then sitting on the floor.

It happened again. Every time it was a slap in the face. It crossed the boundaries of personal and impersonal. Nothing was supposed to be personal, that was how you dealt with everything. It wasn't personal.

Why though, she didn't know. Why it always pierced her so painfully; the cruel words and jeers of an otherwise perfect stranger. She didn't understand why it couldn't stay separate. Why did it have to follow her everywhere? Why did it have to control her every action? Why did it have to feel so… _personal_?

Alone and in the dark, she pondered. Was everything she thought she knew wrong? She didn't want to consider the horrors for her future that would mean if it were true.

Void of everything, dry eyes stared at a plain white ceiling.

-

Somewhere in the frozen twilight he stood. The cold chilled his skin. A breeze ruffled his hair as it whistled through the narrow alley way. These he ignored, though he was very aware of how alone he was in the deserted corridor.

There was, to be cliché, trouble afoot and the young man literally rose to the challenge in a dazzling display. Taking to the air after a brief metamorphosis from ordinary to extraordinary, he left the vacant area. After his departure the small alleyway seemed even more desolate than it had before his arrival.

He brushed silver strands from his eyes as he surveyed the situation. Boxes were accumulating rapidly on the roof of a building. A confident smirk lit his face. One quick flash caught his menace off guard.

His foe cried a primordial "Fear me!" before attempting to retaliate.

His attack was cut off. The minor ghost was no match for his fast maneuvering. He got what he wanted. And Danny Phantom was triumphant again.

-

Danny Fenton had a knack for capturing the paranormal. That was what they told him at least. They being Spiritual Weekly, an up-and-coming tabloid phenomenon. So far, Fenton was the best photographer they'd met, capturing the most quality ghost pictures they could ever hope to find. The boy had a gift.

And a check.

He sighed as he stuffed the folder into his bag; another batch of pictures for Spiritual Weekly. If he was lucky, today would be the day he got put on staff. He'd get a real monthly salary, not just a check every time he brought something worth while. It all came down to what the editor thought; Mr. Lancer.

Personally, Danny found the man odd. He was far too down to earth for such a job, the editor of a paranormal documentation tabloid. He'd be far better suited for a job as an English teacher or something, at the very least the editor of a more credible magazine. He probably didn't even believe in ghosts, which would have explained his dumbfounded state upon first seeing Danny's photos. Pictures of that quality would have been difficult, if not impossible to doctor. But back to the point, Danny had arrived at the conclusion that Mr. Lancer was, as Sam had once put it, a victim of the economy.

Pulling on a heavy coat and his old black bag, Danny left for the tabloid's headquarters, praying all the while to make a good impression today of all days. Down the ten floors of Tucker's apartment building and then out the main doors, icy cold air bit at his face. He nodded in thanks at the doorman who held the door open for him and then started on his trek down the street. The office was maybe a mile away, but even in the cold Danny insisted upon walking. With the city's traffic and the roads conditions it would be faster than a bus anyway. At least it wasn't snowing.

Twenty minutes later, he pushed his way into the small reception office, face flushed and pink with cold. He removed his coat and informed the receptionist of his arrival. The elderly lady whose desk tag read "Edith Thompson" smiled brightly at him. "I'll let Mr. Lancer know you're here, Ben," she said, gingerly picking up the phone. Her old withered hand deftly dialed the extension.

Danny had known the lady only a week, from his first couple visits to the office. From that moment she had insisted on calling him Ben, at first claiming that he resembled "her Ben" and then all together disregarding his real name. But she was such a sweet old lady. Danny couldn't tell if she really thought his name was Ben or not. Regardless, he returned her smile and sat down on the cheap, yet comfortable waiting room chairs, allowing himself to relish the warmth of the room.

It wasn't a long wait before Mr. Lancer came down to greet him. He was an older man, possibly late to mid fifties. He wore grey and brown suits, the kind with suede or leather patches on the elbows. He was bald, but kept a goatee, and his look was nicely balanced with a small potbelly. Quick dark eyes dashed around the room, then focused on Danny as he leapt to his feet.

"Well," he said. "Shall we?"

Danny nodded and followed as Lancer led the way out of the room and to the stairs. Mr. Lancer's office was on the second floor with the writers and would be photographers, had they any on staff yet. The tabloids were printed on the first floor in the space behind the front office. Finally they arrived in front of the door which read "EDITOR" in black imposing letters. It screamed authority and intimidation; two things Danny always felt upon entering.

He sat down behind his desk. Danny remained standing. "So what have you got for us today, Mr. Fenton?" He asked folding his fingers together and resting them on his desk.

Danny pulled the manila folder that served as his portfolio from his bag. Setting the bag aside; he pushed the folder towards Lancer. The latter thumbed through the selection, keen eyes alit with interest. Danny sat down and drummed his fingers on his knees.

"Well, Mr. Fenton," he said, closing the folder and pushing it forward. "If I didn't know any better I'd almost say those were real ghosts."

"You don't like them, then?" Danny asked weakly.

"No, no, on the contrary," Lancer replied with a slight wave of his hand. "If they nearly fooled me, they'd certainly fool the general population, I mean, those who read these things of course."

Danny stared at Lancer for a moment. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why would you work here of all places if you don't even believe in the, eh, the supernatural?"

Lancer leaned back in his leather chair. It groaned with his shift in weight. "No, I don't mind you asking at all, it's a perfectly legitimate question. But you see, it's not a matter of doing what I want, doing what suits my beliefs and interests. It's a matter of doing what I'm able to do. Survival, if you will. Sometimes getting by means selling yourself, doing something you never in a million years thought you'd even consider. I have this job because when I got laid off from my old teaching position, I was desperate. I had house and car payments to worry about. I couldn't afford not to. I found this job through a friend of mine and latched on to it for dear life. And so you see, Mr. Fenton, what I believe no longer matters. All that's important is that I do a good job, and that is precisely what I am here to do.

Now, having said that I arrive at my next topic: Mr. Fenton, I believe it would be in the best interests of this magazine to hire you to staff. I can't let my competition get a hold of such an excellent… whatever you are…"

"Photographer," Danny supplied.

"_Right_," Lancer sarcastically nodded. "Look, I don't care _how_ you get these pictures, but as long as they stay in such good quality you have a job Mr. Fenton."

Danny jumped to his feet, "Really? Oh man, thank you Mr. Lancer, I won't let you down!" He eagerly shook the older man's hand.

"Yes, yes," he said. "Now Edith has all your contract information down in the office: pay, work hours, probability of promotion… All we need is a signature. Once you sign you'll have free use of the dark room, and your very own cubicle for you to store your work. Oh, all we ask for now is that you come in on Tuesday to get the run down on our little operation here and get you settled in for the long haul."

"Thanks again, Mr. Lancer," Danny grinned. "If you don't mind I'd like to go down and have a look at that contract now."

He nodded. "Go right ahead, I won't stop you."

Danny raced down the stairs into the office. Edith was ready for him. "Here you are Ben." She handed him the forms. "Oh my, I was so excited when you came! I already had these forms you see, and I had to keep my mouth shut! How exciting it will be to have you working here now!"

"I know I'm really looking forward to it," Danny replied disregarding his nickname. Pulling a pen out of his bag he quickly scanned the documents. His starting income would be a little less than $1,900 net monthly and would only increase with the sales of the magazine. But then the hours were fantastic. He only had to show up the Tuesday of every week and deliver his pictures, if they needed more work or weren't up to par he'd have to put in a few more hours, possibly a few more days, so long as they were ready for print Sunday night. Danny had a feeling his quality would not diminish. He had a _really_ good source. All in all, this job was a dream come true. He signed in all the designated places without a second thought.

On the walk home he barely even felt the cold. His thoughts were centered on one thing: how to thank Sam. This job, this whole second chance at life was all her doing. The next day she would be turning twenty one, he already had a gift in the works, but unfortunately he'd have to wait until his first real paycheck to repay the $450 to her.

Slowly the gears in his mind started turning. By the time he'd gotten home, he'd hatched a plan to make tomorrow tonight even more special for Sam, but he and Tucker would have to work fast. As an afterthought he mentioned to Tucker he'd gotten the job. Tucker had almost no time to be ecstatic for his friend because Sam's birthday was apparently his top priority.

It was decided, they'd get Sam a nice new dress and shoes to wear out. The dilemma was that neither knew her dress or shoe size. Danny would have to take some liberties here; changing into his ghost form and raiding her closet. Tucker would be in charge of finding the dress and shoes. It wasn't that he was a big shopper for those items, but Danny claimed he had something important to take care of. The plan was set into motion that night.

"You sure you want to go through all this trouble?" Tucker asked him for the tenth time.

"Yes Tuck," Danny replied with impatience. "Look, it should only take me a minute. I'll just go into her closet, look at a dress's tag, get the size, grab a shoe, look, get the size and -boom- I'll be out of there in a flash."

"Alright," Tucker sighed. "Oh yeah, we have to be at the club tomorrow by eight, it fills up fast you know?"

"_Okay_," Danny said. "Later-"

"Wait! I was going somewhere with that statement," Tucker informed him. "The limo is going to arrive here at 7:30 then we were going to drive to Sam's place. If we make her change into the dress before we leave we won't make it in time."

Danny paused in thought. "Not a big deal, I'll just take it over earlier, you'll stay here and meet the limo and nobody has to be late for anything. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be right back." Danny slowly transformed into his ghostly alter-ego, the relatively unknown Danny Phantom. His new appearance was a shocking transition to the old one, everything had been inverted and his eyes, instead of blue, were an inhuman glowing green. His clothes had been replaced with a largely black jumpsuit –what he had been wearing at the time of his accident. It too, had been inverted from its original colors, which had it mostly white. With a small saluting gesture to Tucker, he vanished into thin air.

Tucker grinned at the empty spot that once held his friend. He really did have it bad.

Danny found his way easily to Sam's apartment. Flying had its perks, he had to admit. Man, three years of flying. He was like another person back then; happy, carefree, and so very stupid. He should have listened to his sister, he shouldn't have messed with his parents things. But he had been stupid. And now he was flying. The two things were connected somehow, aside from the whole unifying accident, he just wasn't sure how. But anyway, he found Sam's apartment with little effort.

Still invisible, he prepared himself to phase through the wall. But he hesitated. Wasn't this like an invasion of privacy? But it was for her birthday! He wouldn't do anything to… overstep any boundaries. He pushed forward, but hesitated again. No, he had to do this, it would be worth it. Oh how he hoped Sam wouldn't be there.

Clenching his eyes shut, he went in. Everything was dark and thick with an eerie silence. A quick survey of the apartment told him that he was in fact alone. He sighed in relief and phased into her closet. Another ghostly perk, he could see in the dark with a sort of infrared night vision and if he focused, he could pick up temperature fluctuation that sometimes occurred with paranormal activity. He was like a living, breathing arsenal of ghost detecting equipment, and that was even without mentioning his "blue breath" which happened every time a specter was in the vicinity. But back to the task at hand; finding out Sam's dress and shoe size.

It didn't take long. He was, after all, submerged in Sam's clothing. She had a lot to put it simply. He slipped out of the closet with the information in tow: dress size six, shoe size seven. But then the front door clicked and swung open. Danny froze, hoping she wouldn't see him. Then he remembered he was invisible. Feeling stupid, he prepared himself to phase through the wall.

Then he froze again. Sam had pulled off her sweatshirt which had succeeded in raising her shirt a bit. It was not the fact that skin was exposed that stopped him in his tracks, but the large discolored bruise on it. _What happened_? By now it had been safely tucked beneath her black shirt.

Once again he was distracted, this time by meowing. Sam's cat was sitting right under him, starring up at him. Meowing. And Sam noticed.

"_Shit_," he muttered, only succeeding in bringing more attention to himself.

"Oh my God," Sam whispered, grabbing the nearest thing she could use as a weapon. It just so happened to be her heavy boot. She crept towards her cat. She knew something was there. A ghost? But why would they suddenly decide to haunt her? She swung at the air above her cat.

Nothing.

Danny had gotten himself out just in time. '_Smooth Fenton_,' he chided as he sped home. '_Scare her half to death why don't you_?' And that bruise, what happened? Did she fall? Trip? Run into something?

...Had someone done that to her?

No, he was being paranoid. No one would hit her. Why should they? No, he shouldn't jump to conclusions.

He sped up and vaguely noticed that it was starting to snow. It was an odd sensation, having hundreds of little flakes float listlessly through his form as he flew by. Intangibility, invisibility. The half dead boy flew home, his thoughts in a flurry.

Late the next morning Tucker Foley found himself in unfamiliar territory. His senses were in overdrive as he was submerged in slew of new aromas, textures, and colors. He was slightly dazed. It didn't help that the date's close proximity to Christmas ensured abundance of women and out of place men. It was a suffocating atmosphere.

By some stroke of luck, he had managed to wander into the evening wear section. This however, did little to assuage his situation other than dangle the solution before his eyes. He had no clue as to what Sam would want, what would look good on her, anything! All he had were sizes.

He cursed Danny for not planning things out better. Now he was stuck in an insane department store with nary a whim as to what to get. The likelihood of him getting a sales person was slim. As stated, the store was packed.

But it seemed as though fate was smiling upon him that day as he was shortly approached by an embodiment of god, I mean a sales girl. Feeling thoroughly blessed, Tucker eagerly nodded to the offer of "May I help you?" and told the girl of his situation.

The sales girl summed up his story. "Okay," she said. "So you need a dress" –Tucker nodded- "Size six" –he nodded again- "and other than that you have no clue what to get?" He nodded a third time.

She sighed as though she had been working under these conditions all day. "Alright, picture your girlfriend, what color is she wearing?"

"She's not my girlfriend," he replied.

"What?" she blinked.

"She's not my girlfriend. She's just a friend and her twenty-first birthday is today. Me and another friend are taking her out to celebrate and he thought I'd just go and get her a dress without giving me any clue as to what style, color… anything! Can you believe the nerve of him? I mean, throw me a bone here! He knows her better than I do! And it's not like I-"

"_Sir_!"

"Sorry," Tucker blushed. "Black."

"Okay, so you see her in black." The woman concluded, choosing to ignore his outburst. "We happen to have a few black dresses in stock, you're in luck." Her general sarcasm was apparent as she led him to a huge section of only black dresses.

"Actually, I think I have an idea," Tucker said after a moment of thought. "Basically I just want to see the most unique, non-ugly black dress you've got."

"That I think I can do," the woman replied. "Wait here, I'll be back in a second."

Tucker stood uncomfortably for the few minutes she was gone, idly watching the masses of people shuffling about him in the holiday rush. When she returned she held three dresses. The first one she held up Tucker cringed at.

Unique it most certainly was, but attractive it most certainly wasn't. One word came to mind with this dress: poofy. He shook his head and the second dress was pulled up.

"I realize it has some purple accents, but I think it ties very well with the style of the dress," the woman explained. "We have a limited supply; normally we don't carry this brand or style."

Tucker appraised it. It was a reasonable length; halfway down the calves in jagged sort of strips (at least that was how it appeared when held up to the sales girl). It was mostly black save for a purple stripe down the center of the black ribbon that laced the corset top and trailed down some parts of the skirt. The dress seemed very acceptable.

The woman told Tucker she was pleased with his selection as the third dress was just a plain fall back option.

"I need to get shoes too," Tucker informed her.

She gave him a strained smile and led him to the shoe section. Once there, she wasted no time in telling him that with such a complicated dress, simple shoes were in order. With that, she got the size number out of him and set of for the shoe, not bothering to wait for his information.

Soon she returned with a pair of plain black healed Mary-Janes.

Tucker found nothing wrong with the match. With that he thanked the suddenly flustered sales girl and made his purchases.

He was running out of time. He didn't have the time to deal with this, not now! He narrowly dodged a direct attack. It took out a chuck of cement from a near by building and sent it plummeting to the ground. Gasping, he quickly took control of the situation, catching the chunk and safely setting it on the ground. Sighs of relief emanated from the would-be victims, but he didn't have time to accept their thanks.

Not that they'd thank him. Their relief always, _always_ turned to horror when they realized just what exactly had saved them. Always.

He didn't have a moment to dwell on that depressing fact though. Not when another chunk might be sent hurling towards the streets at a moment's notice. He body slammed the offender only to notice someone else had joined the festivities. He sighed. This was just perfect. This day of all days it just had to happen.

"So Ghost," the new arrival spat. "We meet again."

"Red," Danny acknowledged. He knew they'd work together just long enough to eliminate the other ghost, but after that the truce would be null and void. They would move to a less populated location and battle it out until one or both mysteriously ran from battle.

He only wished he knew why they were fighting.

-

**:AN:** I'm on a role. The wheels are turning. I just have to keep track of all my ideas!

LoL. If you celebrate Christmas, consider this an early Christmas present. To everyone else, consider this a treat that just so happened to come on December 24th.

**Please R&R!**

Love,

**-DRC-**


	6. Chapter Five

**:AN: **Fifty-one reviews? Holy crap! This has officially become my most popular piece. At this rate I will exceed one hundred! Let me just say I never expected this. Sorry for the gloating or whatever you will call this, but I'm just excited. You (my reviewers) are all so kind and I really must thank you all for that. To know that this story is enjoyed by so many makes writing all the more enjoyable. So just, thanks again.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belong to Butch Hartman.

-

**Title: Spider's Web**

-

**_Chapter Five_**

_-_

_Come forth you, the oh so bold_

_Let your secrets to be told_

_The truth is reaching up ahead,_

_You cannot move, frozen by dread_

-

'_Great_,' she mentally muttered. '_Just great… fired _again.'

The young woman trudged slowly down the crowded sidewalk lost in her own mental world of self pity. She had lost yet another job because of him. He just didn't know when to quit. He, it seemed would never cease to attempt to tear her life apart. This was the fifth job he'd taken from her in the past year. First he took her job as a bank teller, three different receptionist/secretarial jobs, and finally her job as sales assistant at Beck and Dylan's department store. It was getting absolutely ridiculous, at this rate she'd end up wearing the Nasty Ned costume at the local Nasty Burger. She shuddered at the thought, '_Never again_…'

Everyone managed to avoid the listless, wandering woman as she made her way through the weaving masses of people. Unfortunately one young man was in far too much of a hurry and therefore didn't notice her until it was too late.

"Ahh!" She cried in shock as she fell back on the cold, hard ground.

"Oh my gosh!" He extended an arm to help her up. "I am _so_ sorry! I didn't see you there. Are you alright?"

She begrudgingly took his hand with a scowl. "Right, like I'm so hard to see. I'm fine, but next time you'd better watch where you're going," she barked.

"It was an accident," he argued. "You could have paid a little more attention too, you know!" He fell nervously into silence as he was suddenly put under her scrutinizing gaze.

"You look familiar," she accused. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"N-no," Danny said, taking the defensive as he too realized there was definitely something familiar about her as well. "I don't think I've ever seen you before."

"Hmm," she sighed. "Whatever, I guess not then."

"Right…" Danny said, slowly backing away. "Sorry again, but I've really got to going now so…"

"Just pay attention next time," she ordered before turning her back on him and continuing on her way. Her instincts never lied. She knew she had seen him before somewhere. It was right on the tip of her tongue. However, right now was not the time to play detective and figure out who the guy was. As a currently unemployed girl with the rent due just around the corner, she had bigger problems.

Danny tried to brush the encounter off his mind. His shoulder and chest was throbbing with pain where she had collided with him. It wasn't her fault though, that he was in pain. He scowled as he thought of his red adorned rival. He supposed it could have been worse. She'd only gotten him with one decent blow before pulling back and leaving him in shock without so much as an ominous threat of "you haven't seen the last of me."

There were very few things in life he understood; Red was not one of them.

He let his mind wander around the subject until he reached his destination. It was a little shop by the name of "Frame of Mindle". It had taken Danny a while until he realized it was a pun. Mr. Mindle was a fortunately (for his profession) named man with a knack for woodwork and a good sense of style.

The store was tiny, but the décor was expertly placed. Danny had discovered the place after an unfortunate crash landing some months ago and had taken an immediate liking to it. He greeted the store's owner with a smile and a friendly word.

Said owner smiled brightly at him in return before reaching under the counter and pulling out a parcel. "Here you are, my boy," he said holding it out. "And let me know if you ever decide to reconsider. I'll gladly accept a copy."

Danny took the parcel. Grinning, he said, "Thanks, Mr. Mindle, but I just wouldn't feel comfortable doing that. I'll tell you what though; if you want I can bring you some other samples of my work."

He shrugged, "Can't blame a man for trying. You can bring those samples around anytime you want. Heck, I wouldn't mind if you brought that girl around either." He winked.

Danny blushed. "Well, maybe sometime next week then…" He glanced at his wrist watch. It couldn't possibly be that late already! "Thanks again, Mr. Mindle, but I've really got to take off."

With that, Danny took a hasty exit and made way to a secluded alley. After a brief flash that he prayed no one had witnessed, he took off in the direction of Tucker's apartment. He changed back a block away and walked the remainder.

He had made the mistake a few times of leaving the "human" way, then just taking the easy way back in with ghost powers. Unfortunately his unexplainable, unseen arrivals had confused the doorman out of his wits. Danny didn't know how to explain just how he had managed to leave, not come back, and leave again all during one break-less shift of the doorman. Needless to say, he always took great pains to be seen leaving and returning after that, lest anyone get suspicious.

Rushing up the stairs, which Danny found far more reliable than waiting for a possibly occupied elevator, he made his way to the tenth floor. He only had two hours to tend to his injuries, clean up, wrap the gift, and haul ass to Sam's place.

When he got inside, Tucker was waiting for him with a venomous look on his face. "You're late," he said poignantly.

"I would have been on time if I could have helped it," Danny replied. "Unfortunately my little side job decided to bombard me today."

Tucker's mood shifted dramatically. He arched an eyebrow, "You're okay though, right?"

"Yeah," he shrugged (wincing slightly as his should had been targeted earlier). He rubbed the soar area. "It's nothing I can't handle. She took off right before she could do any real damage."

"Red again?" Tucker asked.

Danny nodded. Tucker was familiar with Danny's stories about infamous "Red", a ghost hunter with a personal vendetta against him for reasons unknown. "But it's like I said; no big deal. I have everything under control… I just have to move a little faster to get ready is all." With that, Danny set the parcel on the table and shut himself in the bathroom.

-

She threw her keys on the counter and flipped a switch. The light flickered and cast a fuzzy, orange-ish glow on the apartment. Valerie Grey grimaced.

Cheap, shabby lighting shining on cheap, shabby furniture, in a cheap, shabby apartment. It disgusted her every time she saw it. It never ceased to be a shock to her system. With a groan, she trudged in further.

And with a slight cry of surprise, she was lying face down in the ugly, ancient, orange and brown splotched carpeting. Muttering profanities under her breath, she discovered the offending object that caused her fall.

It was a small, white box addressed to a 'Miss Grey'.

Valerie disposition shifted instantly. Grinning, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and grabbing at the box like a child at Christmas. She was quite accustomed to the random arrivals of the nondescript packages. Vlad, her disembodied supplier had been consistently leaving her _presents_ for three years running.

The box was smaller than usual today, but heavy, which was probably how it made her fall. She ripped off the lid. '_Rocks_?' Well that was most certainly odd. On top of the rocks was an envelope, also addressed to her in the same fashion the box had been. She tore it open.

_Dearest Ms. Grey,_

_The news has reached me in regards to the loss of your most recent job and with it I give you my most sincere apologies. I can't help but feel a tad bit responsible for your unfortunate position and therefore implore you to have a night out. Enclosed is a small sum, the means of which you should take this night out. Also I have taken the liberty of assuming all of your bills until you are, as they say, back on your feet again. _

_Never fear, Ms. Grey. For in this heartless world you do have someone to look out for you. _

_Most sincerely yours,_

_Vlad_

_PS. The stones in the box are not by any means important. This message was put in a box (rather than simply an envelope) to ensure your seeing it and the stones only served the purpose of weighing it down. I'm terribly sorry if I built your hopes up for a new "toy". _

Valerie grinned and hugged the letter. Tears of relief welled in her eyes. What a wonderful feeling security was.

True to his word, a small folded paper sharing the same envelope as the letter held the sum of $80. It was plenty to spend the evening unwinding and purchase some groceries the next day.

After her run-in with the Phantom, the loss of her job, and sprawling on the floor –what she really needed was a stiff drink to numb her mind, really loud music, and a whole lot of strangers to distract her.

-

The mirror was coated with condensation. She wiped her hand across and saw her face distorted in the smear. She stuck her tongue out in response to seeing the bags under her eyes. That ghost… or whatever it was from the night before scared the living shit out of her. She rolled her eyes when she noted that Lilith, the discoverer of whatever-it-was was completely unfazed.

Taking her towel she assisted the vent (which was slowly evaporating the dew-like liquid on her mirror) and wiped more off. She hissed slightly as she fingered the bruise on her hip bone. It was sore, discolored, and thoroughly gross looking. She'd have to be careful about where she leaned tonight.

Sam Manson grinned as she thought about it. It would be like before; before all the drama, before all the hiding, and running. A carefree teen going out for a good time, although it had been a couple years since she'd technically been a "teen". Still though, if it involved a party hat, she reasoned it couldn't be too different.

Lilith pawed at the bathroom door. Sam opened it, letting in a blast of cold air that succeeded in giving her goose-flesh. She yanked the towel from the counter and wrapped it tightly around her. Her cat rubbed against her still-damp legs.

"Yuck Lil," she made a face, "Danny's going to be here in an hour and a half. I've got to get ready and I don't need your fur plastered to my legs." Having said that, she scooped the cat into her arms and marched to her dresser where she promptly put on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. It was very cold after all, and was still too soon to get dressed.

Of course she only realized as an "afterthought" that she was wearing the very outfit she'd lent to Danny two weeks prior.

It had been a shame really. She hadn't seen him at all since then. He was very busy finding work, incredibly dedicated. He had called her a couple times to update her and ask how she was doing as well. It was a very nice thought on his part. Prior to his first call, she had grown a bit worried that he'd just forget about her –he and Tucker. While she tried to convince herself that would be for the best, she was still pleasantly relieved to hear from him.

Last she heard he was on the verge of a job at some tabloid or something. Nothing she'd ever heard of, but a start to be sure. She'd ask him about it when he got there. 7pm had been decided upon. She had it written on her wall calendar: December 16th -7pm.

A half hour later she had finished blow-drying her hair and was just about to start on her makeup when someone knocked on her door. When she looked out the peep-hole she was surprised to find Danny in full evening attire holding a couple boxes, just standing outside her door an _hour_ early. He had some explaining to do.

She opened the door. "Danny," she said, "isn't _this_ a surprise."

He gave her a charming smile; she bit her lip. "Well that was the intention… can I come in?"

She nodded, moving out of his way.

He set the boxes down on her kitchen table and the duo fell into an uncomfortable silence.

After a moment Sam said, "So is there a reason you're here an hour early or…"

Danny smacked his forehead. "Right… forgot about that… Um, these are for you."

Eyeing the boy warily she walked over to the table and examined the boxes. They bore the prestigious inscription of _Beck and Dylan's Department Store_. "I told you guys I didn't need any presents." She said defiantly.

Danny shrugged. "You said you didn't need them, not that you didn't want them. Think of it as me reading between the lines. Open it. I'll only take them back if you convince me you hate them."

"Alright," she sighed. "But I really don't need anything." She pulled of the lid of the first box and pulled out a dress. She held it up and examined it with a slightly slacked jaw.

Danny beamed. "You're supposed to wear it out tonight, which would justify my early arrival. And if I told you about it before it would have ruined the surprise. So… you like it okay?"

"Y-yeah," she choked out, surprised that it was true. "You have great taste, I must say."

"Actually," he rubbed the back of his neck and studied the carpet, "Tucker got it. I had an important errand to run and the whole dress idea came to me last minute."

"Tucker picked this out?" She felt a slight pang that he hadn't gotten it for her and was slightly amazed that Tucker was able to do so well.

"Yeah," he grinned. "I got an earful from him later telling me how he had to fight tooth-and-nail with nine-hundred other guys just to get a sales girl to help him out."

The explanation made sense of everything. She rubbed her thumbs over the fabric she was grasping. "Well… I had better go try this on, please excuse me."

Danny chuckled as she rushed past him into the bathroom, so relieved that she liked it. He felt something brush against his leg and looked down only to find Lilith, Sam's meddlesome cat. The events from the night before flashed through his mind. It didn't last long though, the bathroom door creaked open –stealing his attention.

Sam didn't come out though. "Well, it fits," she said.

"Aren't you going to come out?"

"And ruin the surprise?" she asked, "Never!"

"Okay... so do I give you the matching shoes now, or later?"

"Now," she decided after a moment. "Just slide them through the door."

He did so. Then he did as she instructed him to do; make himself "at home and watch TV or something." He hoped that in some sort of warped girl-way this whole "surprise" thing definitely meant she liked it and he wasn't misreading it or something. He was not exactly an expert on the minds of girls, actually just girls in general.

Sam studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had settled on a softer look so as not to be over powering with an intense make up/ dress combination. Her hair had been pulled back into a loose messy-bun, wispy strands framed her face. Her make up was lighter than she usually wore; only a very slight purple tint on her eye lids and a bit of black eye liner and mascara to make her eyes pop. A little tinted lip gloss finished the look.

She stepped back a bit. Shoes and dress were a perfect fit, hair and make up looked good… But she needed something more… Rummaging through a drawer she came across a small box containing a set of matching a match necklace and earrings. Lydia had given them to her as a birthday present the year before. She hadn't really had any occasion to wear them before. The earrings dangled with three small tear-drop shaped stones, the necklace bore the same design hanging from the chain.

'Well,' she said with one final appraisal, 'it's now or never.'

Danny stared blankly at the television. He was a bit bored. Sam had been in the bathroom doing who knows what for the past half an hour. He drummed his fingers on his knee until his attention was drawn by an imposing "ehem". He leaned over to see around the TV.

"Okay," Sam said turning to give him the full effect. "How do I look?"

Danny fell off the couch.

Sam smirked. His reaction was definitely positive.

Danny scrambled to pick himself up off the ground. "Uh, heh-heh," he chuckled nervously, "dress looks great, Sam."

"Gee, I don't know which compliment was better," she mused, "the verbal or the slapstick."

"Hey!" Danny protested, "I slipped!"

"Sure you did, Danny," she replied sarcastically. "But save it, you and I both know how _good_ I look." To top it off she licked her thumb and touched her side and made the sizzle-noise.

Danny smiled. He found it thoroughly refreshing how down to earth she was. Which somehow reminded him; he had something else for her… "Speaking of you looking good, you've got another package."

Sam arched an eyebrow. "Another present? After I explicitly told you _not_ to get me anything?"

"Eh," he shrugged. "I never was good at following directions." He strode over to the table and picked up the final package. "Here you go."

Sam took the box from him and sat on the couch. She lifted the lid and found an item securely tapped up in paper. Judging from the weight and feel of it, she could tell it wasn't another article of clothing. Casting Danny an inquisitive glance, she set to work ripping through the paper. And suddenly she found herself staring at… herself.

"What is this?" she asked.

Danny scratched his head. It was a nervous habit he was becoming all too aware of, so he quickly stopped. "While I realize it is a bit unorthodox to give someone a picture of themselves, I thought you should have this. I mean, I remembered you saying I was wasting my film on you and this was just a way for me to prove you wrong."

"Wow, way to hit two birds with one stone," she laughed. "Though I hope you know I oppose animal abuse."

"Lucky for you the only animals I abuse are metaphoric at most," Danny replied. "So does this mean you like it?"

"Yeah, I do," Sam smiled. "You've got a real gift if you can give me this kind of justice." Laughing, she continued, "It's a good thing I never have people over because after seeing this they'd think I'm narcissistic or something."

"So has your birthday been going well so far?"

"Yes," she replied, "I think it has."

There was a knock at the door and Sam set the picture aside to go answer it. She was greeted enthusiastically by Tucker, who presented her with a plastic, silver tiara that had the words "I'm 21 And This Is My Party Hat" sculpted into it. He was also very pleased to find that the dress he got her suited her so well. If he ever saw that sales girl again, he told them he'd be sure to thank her.

Sam joked saying she too would love to meet the woman with such great tastes.

Valerie had seen it advertised practically everywhere. It was starting to peak her curiosity, though she never dared go before. Money was always tight. Tonight, however she had been instructed to "take a night out" and was given the means to do so by Vlad.

The Freak Show was the "hottest" place in town for young adults 21 and up (not including those crafty few who managed to get a hold of a fake ID). It received rave review after rave review commending it on its fantastic music, fun atmosphere, and incredible drink selection. It was perfect for a twenty-first birthday celebration to just a fun night out to unwind.

So Valerie decided to go. It could be fun. She could meet new people; keep her mind occupied with something other than revenge for a while. Her father would be happy to know she was going out to have a good time for once.

With her mind set, she dressed up and set out for the club. She was apprehended at the door. "Name," the bouncer barked.

"Valerie Grey," she replied. "But I doubt you'll find me on that list-"

"Go right in, Ms. Grey you have a message waiting for you at the hostess stand," he interrupted with a suddenly polite demeanor. He stood aside to let her in, much to the disappointment of the masses of people in line to go in.

Not wanting to question her good fortune, she merely shrugged and went to the stand. Vlad had sent her the message; he wished her a good time. She had no clue how he knew where she was going, but again –she decided not to question her good fortune.

Shortly after she entered, a very impressive limo pulled up to the curb. A waiting attendant quickly opened the door. Out came a very smug looking Tucker Foley, followed by the slightly apprehensive Sam, and the good natured Danny.

As Tucker walked self-importantly up to the bouncer, Sam relished the moment. She felt like a rock star in spite of the rather embarrassing, but assuredly necessary party hat. She must have let her mind wander because she suddenly found herself being coaxed forward by Danny who had gently taken her arm. Tucker was waiting for them, all together very pleased with himself.

Loud, thumping music and red, fast moving spotlights greeted the trio as they followed the hostess to their reserved table on the second level. It was a great table, allowing them to look down on all the action as they enjoyed a nourishing meal. Of course that was only a prelude to later when they would be down stairs in all the action.

"So Sam," Tucker asked over the music, "how does it feel to be a part of the twenty-one and over fold?"

"Well," Sam replied with her first official (legal) drink, "it feels exactly like twenty, only with alcohol." And her first drink was called a "Pink Squirrel", ordered for her by Danny and Tucker. They had decided based on which one had the most amusing name.

It was a strange beverage; the only ingredient Sam could name for sure was the strawberry ice cream. After the first initial shock of the alcohol she found herself enjoying it. She wasn't one to go over board though, so she sipped slowly and decided to wait until later in the evening before she would get another drink.

After they finished their meals and were slightly warmed by the alcohol in their systems, they made their way downstairs. The party only seemed all the more inviting and in uncharacteristic excitement Sam hurried them down. She was really starting to get into the mood necessary for a young girl just turned twenty-one.

And for a carefree moment, down on the dance floor with her friends that's all she was.

**-**

**:AN:** Yeah, I realize last chapter I said I was "on a roll", but my god this chapter was hard to write! At least I can boast that it didn't take me a month to post… (Dude, I just totally rhymed!)

Things will be getting more dramatic next chapter. I had originally intended for the birthday to all be in one, but I wanted to get this out by this weekend and if I extended it that goal would not have been met. Luckily I seem to be looking forward to writing this next part and that only speeds up the process. So yay!

Well, you've read, now for part two of this two-part process… Review!

-

Love,

**-DRC-**


	7. Chapter Six

**:AN: **Well... here I am. You guys are too kind. Oh, just a heads-up... Wanted to get this out so didn't bother too much with editing. Hopefully I didn't make too many stupid mistakes...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belong to Butch Hartman.

**Language warning!** Yes, that's right… _Bad language_. If it offends you, I suggest you either ignore it or just don't read this chapter. Honestly, I don't find anything wrong with bad language if it is tastefully used. I'd like to think I didn't abuse it. Or over use it. Anyway, _you have been warned_. Dun dun dun!

-

**Title: Spider's Web**

-

_**Chapter Six**_

_-_

_And forever back in line you go_

_Longing for salvation you won't know_

_Here; all days and nights you spend_

_Until some miracle, heaven send_

-

The disorienting lights and masses of bodies and movement inevitably separated the party. It took Sam a moment before she realized that Danny and Tucker were nowhere to be found, but she didn't panic. After all, it wasn't like she was scared of being alone.

Still though, she had been out there on the dance floor a while and figured she might as well step off to the side to catch her breath. She took a seat at the bar and ordered a glass of water as she had started feeling a bit dehydrated. After the bartended handed her the glass, she spun the stool around so that she could watch the action around her. She was sure Danny and Tucker would eventually come out and find her.

"_Manson_? Is that _you_?"

Sam nearly spilled her water down the front of her dress as she turned to the person who addressed her. Said person was clearly not Danny or Tucker. "Sorry," she said. "Do I know you?"

"So it _is_ you," the girl replied, taking the empty seat next to her. "St. Andrews Academy, homeroom, come on, I went to your tenth birthday party."

"Wait," she said, pausing for a moment of thought. The dawning of recognition spread over her face. "Valerie? Valerie Grey, right?"

"Bingo," she replied. "So what brings you here?"

Sam pointed to her hat. "I'm sort of a walking billboard for my intentions tonight," she joked. "What about you?"

"I'm just here for some mind-numbing fun," she shrugged, "emphasis on the mind-numbing part. And nothing offers more mind-numbing fun than loud music and beer."

"Very true," Sam agreed. "So how has life been treating you these days?"

Sam and Valerie hadn't exactly been the best of friends in school. They had started out as such when they were little, but as time went on they had siphoned off into different social groups. A sort of animosity developed between them. But it had been three years. Sam saw no reason to continue any grudge towards the girl who could be completely different than she remembered. She recalled the accident at Axion, which happened a few short months after she left home. She hoped Valerie's father had made it out okay. He had always been so nice.

"Eh, they've been better," she shrugged, deciding against going into detail. "I never expected to run into you again. Looks like you've been doing alright for yourself."

"I have my good days and my bad ones," she said. "But yeah, I guess things aren't too terrible."

"That's great," Valerie replied. "I'm happy you made it okay out here. Everyone in school thought you were crazy when you left."

Sam laughed. "Good to know my absence didn't change their esteemed opinion of me."

"So what have you been doing with yourself employment-wise?"

What was it with Sam and getting herself into situations like this? She could smack herself for the sheer stupidity of it. Not wanting to delve into another lie, she pretended to see her friends. "Well you know… oh hey! I see my friends. Sorry Val, we got separated in all the craziness here; I've got to go meet them. It was really nice catching up with you. We'll have to do it again sometime!" With that she let her self be absorbed back into the ocean of people. Valerie had no time to protest.

Valerie shrugged it off; Manson had always been an odd-ball. Then she realized something, '_I just know I've seen that dress somewhere before_…'

Danny felt terrible; lower than low. But, he told himself, it wasn't like he had a choice. He had a responsibility to the city, to himself, and even to Sam –whose birthday celebration he'd just left to do what he was doing just now. Or what Danny Phantom was doing, depending on one's knowledge of the situation.

He had been lucky though. Somehow in the chaos that was Freak Show he had become separated from Sam and Tucker. Tucker knew about his secret, true –but Danny preferred it this way. If Tucker didn't see him (literally) disappear, he wouldn't have to worry. And that was just better for everyone.

So when Danny's breath suddenly changed he just allowed himself to slip unnoticed into the shadows like some cliché superhero, which he probably was in reality. He was outside in a second, mentally telling Sam how sorry he was about ditching her, praying he'd be able to handle whatever the "problem" was fast enough that nobody would notice his absence.

All hope of a quick return vanished as Danny discovered the true problem at hand. "Plasmius," he said with as much disdain as he could muster, "to what do I owe this unpleasant surprise?"

"Always with the warm welcomes aren't we, Daniel?"

"You know me," Danny bit, "I'll do _anything_ to welcome you, _Uncle_ Vlad. Now answer my question; why the hell are you here?"

"Now, now Daniel," the ghostly man chided. "I went through such great lengths to ensure us a private, undisturbed meeting. The least you could do is be a bit more grateful."

"Right, because I owe you so much," he scoffed. "Now will you answer me?"

This foe grinned, but it emanated no warmth or good feeling. Indescribably this demonic smile could freeze the warmest heart, the leering eyes could knock one out of breath- it was a smile that took pleasure in no pleasant thing. It was directed at Danny. "You are wearing my patients, boy," he said, all feigned warmth replaced with the truer tone of malice. "I have put up with your quips long enough and it must come to an end. Tonight, Daniel I have come to offer you one last change; join me now or face the consequences."

"You never quit, do you?" the younger man asked with outrage. "Will it ever seep through that thick head of yours? I. Will. _Never_. Join. You. Why would I suddenly decide to swear my allegiance to someone I have sworn to hate? Why would I suddenly decide to change my mind and join you? How could you possibly think I'd say yes?"

"Oh my little badger," Plasmius sighed with sickening sweetness. "You think you're an unyielding mountain, but I see the truth, something you can't seem to grasp. I know what you are; a twig. You are stiff and brittle, set in your was. But will a little effort –and I do stress little- you will break in half." For effect, the ghostly man pantomimed the snapping. "In the end Daniel, you'll be nothing but fuel for my fire."

"I will never join you," Danny reiterated.

"There's more than one way to bend will, my boy," he said ominously. "If not by choice, there are other ways to make you come around and I will feel no remorse in doing any of them. If you were smart, Daniel, you'd take me up on this most generous offer."

"You've gotta have selective hearing or something," Danny yelled. "I. Will. Not. EVER. Join. You! Got it? I can only repeat myself so many times! There is nothing you can do or say that will change that. Nothing. I won't be your stupid pawn, Vlad. I'm never going to be you."

"Oh I doubt that very much Daniel," Vlad informed him. "You've been warned."

Vlad Plasmius vanished slowly into the atmosphere leaving Danny alone. It was a cold, dry night. No clouds and a sky full of stars above him. Below him lay the real world, full of neon and grimy snow; the flashing lights of the club. Danny was in limbo, lingering between both worlds and acknowledging neither. He was frozen, thoroughly shaken by his most recent encounter.

Vlad Masters, Vlad Plasmius… he did not make idle threats.

"Perfect," Tucker grumbled. He was disgruntled and with very good reason. He had been ditched. Sam and Danny had frolicked off to who knows where, leaving him –the one who got the dress and the club and the limo… alone. How ungrateful could you get?

Eh, he couldn't stay mad for long. So what if they went off for some "alone time"? It wasn't like Danny didn't deserve a relationship. Sam was cool enough. And it wasn't like he, Tucker, wasn't an able bodied bachelor in a building chalk-full of single hotties. It was time to lay on that old Foley charm he was so famous for. …Or was it _infamous_?

He would go to the bar and scope the scene. When he got there he ran into someone unexpected.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?" he asked.

The woman arched an eyebrow. "If you tell me you know me from your dreams, I'll dump that guy's drink down your shirt." She jabbed her thumb in the direction of a man sitting a few seats down. Said man grabbed at his beverage protectively.

"No, no," Tucker replied shaking his head. "I'm serious. I think I know you from somewhere."

"Oh," she said with a dawning realization, "I know what you're doing! You're trying to trick me into giving you my information! Well let me just tell you, it ain't gonna work."

"Pfft," Tucker said, taking the seat next to her. "You're rather paranoid, aren't you?"

"It's not paranoia if you're right," she pointed out.

"I guess that's true," he shrugged. "Unfortunately that doesn't apply to this case. Besides, I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

"Where I know you from," he said. Then he called the bartender over to order a drink.

"Well?" she prompted.

"Well what?" he asked innocently.

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Aargh," she growled, making Tucker wonder if he had perhaps done the wrong thing… "You know, that guy's drink is getting pretty tempting about now. I hope you have no qualms about getting wet. On second thought, I hope you do!"

"Woah, woah," Tucker exclaimed. "Don't get carried away, I was only joking. You work at Beck and Dylan's, right?"

Her eyes flashed for a second. She smacked her fist into her palm. "Oh!" she said. "That's why you look so familiar. You're the guy who got the dress for the ungrateful friends, right?"

Tucker laughed, "Basically."

"So how'd it work out?"

"Pretty well actually," he smiled. "Sam said she wanted to meet, how did she put it? Oh yeah- the 'woman with such great tastes'."

"Wait, Sam?" Valerie asked. What were the chances, just what exactly..?

"Yeah, you know her?" Tucker arched an eyebrow. "Gothic girl about so high?" He held his hand around her general height.

Then again, her dress had looked familiar. So familiar in fact that she very well could have sold it that morning to the man sitting in front of her. "Sam Manson?"

"Yeah!" Tucker cried.

"Well isn't that a coincidence." She folded her arms. "Huh, that's really weird."

"How d'you know her?" Tucker asked with sparked interest. He knew very little about Sam as it was.

"We went to school together since, like preschool. Hadn't seen her for three years before tonight," she replied. "You?"

Tucker shrugged. "She pulled my best friend out of a snow drift two weeks ago and basically gave him a new lease on life. You could say I befriended her through him."

"Oh…" she said slightly distracted by his matter-of-factly delivered explanation. It sort of fit Manson though, in some twisted way. She always was the humanitarian even if she did seem to hate majority of the human race. "My name's Valerie by the way." She stuck out her right hand.

"Tucker," Tucker said, taking her hand in the customary fashion.

"Oh good, there you are Tucker."

"You!"

"Uh…"

"You!" Valerie exclaimed for a second time. "You're that guy who plowed me over on the sidewalk today!"

"Oh, sorry about that," Danny said. He was a bit put off by the fact that he had another run-in with the crazy girl from the sidewalk so soon after a rather disturbing meeting with his arch enemy. It did little for one's nerves.

"So you two know each other too?" Tucker asked. "Weird." Then, off handedly to Valerie he added, "Danny's who I met Sam through."

"Wait, you know Sam?"

"School," Valerie replied. "God, it's like one coincidence after another."

"How do you know her, Tuck?" Danny asked.

"She sold me Sam's dress," Tucker replied.

"Freaky," Danny decided.

"Yes," Valerie agreed.

Danny glanced around. "Have either of you seen Sam?"

"No," Tucker shook his head. "I figured she'd been with your or something."

"I talked to her earlier," Valerie volunteered. "She told me she saw her friends, you guys I'm assuming, and left. That was maybe twenty minutes ago. Either of you seen her since then?"

"I haven't seen her for at least a half an hour," Tucker answered.

"Same," Danny added. He knitted his brows together in distress. It was just a club though, she was okay he told himself. She would definitely be fine.

"Manson was always doing stuff like this," Valerie sighed. "It's why we weren't really close before she ran away. It's hard to keep a friendship with someone who doesn't trust you." She absently took a sip from her drink and stared out into the crowd vaguely wondering just where her old childhood friend ran off to.

Sam was getting frustrated. She thought for sure she'd have found at least one of them by now. Danny and Tucker had either disappeared or were just really good at hiding. At this point, her feet were killing her. Healed shoes weren't the best thing to have on when searching for one's friends. She found and empty table and decided to give her screaming feet a break.

She smiled slightly in relief as she saw a silhouette approaching her. Whatever relief she had was short lived as the man sat down at her table. The smile was replaced with a tight-lipped frown.

Danny found Sam a half an hour later. By this point she wasn't hard to spot. With a beer in hand, she cried out gleefully –a bright smile on her face. Swinging her hips and arms –not quite in rhythm with the music, she lost her balance. She flung herself on a near-by support beam and as she righted herself, she saw him.

"D-danny!" she cried, staggering over to him and collapsing against his shoulder. She laughed hysterically over her antics.

"Sam," Danny said taking her sternly by the shoulders. He could smell it on her breath and see it in her actions- she was drunk, not tipsy, but full-on, not going to remember anything tomorrow _drunk_. "I think we should go sit down."

"Nhh-m," she shook her head. "I wanna da-a-ance." She tugged on Danny's arm, trying to pull him further into the crowd.

"Just sit with me a minute and then we can go back out, okay?" Danny reasoned, taking back his hands and replacing them on her shoulders so as to demand her somewhat limited attention.

She seemed to weigh her options for a moment. "Okay," she laughed.

Danny sighed in relief as he led his impaired friend to a near by table. Once there, he promptly sat her down. "What happened?" he asked. "I thought you said you were going to take it easy on the drinking!"

"I'm twenty-_hic_-one," she informed him. "I'm _allooowed_."

"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should," Danny pointed out. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"

Sam frowned. "I though you said we could go back out there!" She gestured vaguely to the crowd with her arm.

"Sam, I think we'd be better off finding Tucker and getting you home," Danny reasoned.

"No," Sam shook her head. "I am not ready to go yet. You said we… you said… I wanna stay!" She stamped her foot childishly.

Danny sighed. Something had clearly happened that made her break her resolve and now she was being difficult. He hated to refuse her though. Maybe going back out for a few minutes wouldn't hurt…

"Well hey Doll," a strange man said to Sam, placing his hand comfortably on her shoulder. "And here I thought you weren't working tonight."

Sam became suddenly silent, she was shocked into silence. Raged boiled in Danny as Sam gasped. She froze and her eyes grew wide. Danny stood so forcefully his chair fell over. "Get your hands off her!" he demanded.

"Hey," Sam's clearly drunken assailant reasoned with a sick grin, "I'm not a selfish man and I know there's more than enough of this one for both of us." When he winked something in Danny snapped. To make things even, Danny repaid the favor to his nose.

"Shut. Up." Danny growled, fists balled.

"Fuck, man!" he exclaimed, clutching his nose. "Fuck!" He spat blood to the side and glared at Sam, then at Danny. "I don't get you, man. Fighting over a whore, it just isn't done. Girls like her are a dime-a-fucking-dozen."

Danny positioned himself in between the man and Sam. "Stay the hell away from her. If I _ever_ hear of you getting _anywhere_ near her…"

"Screw you," he argued. Then he paused. With a lip-curled appraisal of Sam, he changed his mind. "Whatever, you can have the bitch for all I care." With a final snide glare at Danny, he wiped his nose and left. All the while he muttered, "Bitch isn't worth the effort…"

Danny was reeling. He could not comprehend what had just happened. How could anyone have been prompted to say such terrible things? How could he say those things about Sam? Countless similar thoughts ran through his mind.

Sam had sat motionless throughout the ordeal. She was struck with terror. One though repeated through her fogged mind, '_It's all over now… it's all over now_.' She realized eventually that Danny had been standing up for her. He told the man off and apparently refused to believe what he said. Suddenly it occurred to her that she didn't want to dance anymore.

In a small, clear voice she said, "I want to go home now."

Danny almost missed it, hearing muddled by the music and distracted by his thoughts. He was immediately pulled back to the real world. He looked at Sam. "Okay."

He held his hand to her and Sam tentatively took it.

What happened next was a blur. In clips she vaguely registered Danny guiding her to her apartment. She rummaged in her bag without questioning how she had it in her hands to begin with to find her keys. She jammed them into the door when she found them.

Danny turned to leave her, seeing she was going to get safely inside. She mumbled something, stopping him in his tracks. "What's that?" he asked.

"I don't… want… to be alone." She muttered again, leaning groggily against the doorframe.

Danny thought about this for a moment. "You want me to stay with you?"

Sam nodded.

"Alright, sure," he replied. In her current state she really shouldn't be alone, he reasoned. Besides, come tomorrow she'd really need some company. He did not envy her that impending hangover.

With that, she slumped forward on to his shoulder. He stood awkwardly for a moment as he realized she was out cold; her closed eyes, even breathing, and general lack of response attested to that. Slightly inconvenienced by her dead weight, Danny turned the key in the door and trudged in to the dark apartment.

Guided by the light shining through the open front door, Danny made his way carefully towards Sam's bed. Once there, he gently set the girl down. He turned around and immediately tripped over something furry. He only narrowly avoided stepping on the feline whom had already vacated the scene of the crime. 'Lights,' he mentally grumbled.

Danny somehow made it to the hall without further complications and turned on the light. It shone dimly on the remainder of the apartment, but it was enough. He shut the front door and decided to borrow Sam's phone to let Tucker know what was going on. He was still waiting outside.

Then went to coax Sam out of her sleep. Those clothes she was wearing couldn't be comfortable to sleep in.

"What?" Sam whined groggily as she swatted Danny away. He had been nudging her relentlessly and repeatedly saying her name. It got annoying.

"Sorry, I just thought you might want to change into something more comfortable before you're out for the night," he replied.

"I thought I already was out for the night," she muttered. Still, she sat up and walked unsteadily to the dresser, she was forced to catch herself on it, rattling its contents. She hastily opened a drawer and pulled out a few articles of clothing before marching purposely and with improved balance to the bathroom.

When she reemerged, Danny handed her a glass of water he'd fixed while she was changing. "You should probably drink this," he advised. "Don't want you getting dehydrated."

"Thanks," she replied sitting on her bed and sipping it slowly. She set it down on her nightstand. "Thanks for staying Danny, I really appreciate it."

"It's no problem Sam," he smiled. "You should get some sleep."

She bit her lip and looked away. "Would you maybe sit with me for a little while? I'm not feeling that great and…"

"S-sure Sam," he said. She seemed different as she sat before him. She was smaller somehow, tired. She was nothing like his first impression had been; though considering the night's events it shouldn't have been any surprise. He clenched his fist and realized as he did so he had a small cut on his knuckle.

She smiled weakly at him and patted the spot next to her as she burrowed under the covers. Tentatively Danny sat next to her, making a point of staying above the covers. She leaned against him suddenly, causing him to freeze up.

"Thanks," she sighed with evident fatigue. "God I'm so tired." She yawned, "If that stupid ghost hadn't scared the crap out of me…" She didn't finish the thought, having found a comfortable spot and fallen promptly to sleep.

But the statement had definitely left its impact on Danny. 'Well crap,' he thought. And as the connection between his other self and Sam crossed his mind, something thoroughly bothersome followed.

How had Vlad known where to meet him?

He looked at Sam who was fitfully sleeping on his shoulder. She was blissfully unaware of the troubles looming on the surface for Danny, possibly both of them. After all, wasn't it his fault that the drunken ass from earlier had gotten his hands on Sam? He assumed she'd be safe there and he had assumed wrong. Because he left her, because of Vlad, she was victimized and then drank herself into a stupor.

Her breath still held the faint aroma of alcohol, slightly masked by the familiar scent of toothpaste.

The smart thing to do would be to cut off contact with her as soon as he paid her back. It was the smart thing to do.

But as he looked at her so defenseless in her sleep, hehad to ask himself; was it the _right_ thing to do?

-

**:AN:** I wanted to get this out a couple days ago, but got held up due to a bit of writer's block. I had to rewrite the last couple pages of this for two reasons; the first being that it had way too much dialogue and not enough… well… whatever it is I like to do and the second being that it just sucked. I'm much happier with this version.

I hope the transitions were clearer. I purposely put the name of the character of focus immediately at the shift. Let me know!

Yeah, so this is the part where to tell me what you liked, hated, loved… etc.

-

Love,

-DRC-


	8. Chapter Seven

**:AN: **Well... here I am. There is a note at the end of the chapter.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belong to Butch Hartman.

-

**Title: Spider's Web**

-

**_Chapter Seven_**

-

_Oh tunnel light catch me please!_

_Where I fall down to my knees_

_Begging, pleading set me right_

_And save me from eternal night!_

-

The snowplow pushed slowly through the streets. The dregs of browned, dirty snow and slurry from the night before were shoved aside to make way for the traffic and life of the new day. The sun's rays had reached the city as a prelude to the clear day ahead. In those early rays, in the freshened streets with the gentle hum of the snowplow off someway past, a feeling of renewal and the promise of better times lingered. Everything glowed and emanated that promise.

One set of screeching tires and one solitary scream dashed the promise and dimmed the glow.

All things in due time.

-

She groaned upon waking to the alarm clock she'd forgotten to deactivate. Slamming it off, Valerie Gray realized with some level of despair that she would not be able to fall back asleep. Her usually dim apartment was strangely alit with sunlight.

She sighed and watched the dust dance lazily as if it enjoyed it warmth of the light. It was _so_ lazy. She made a face when she realized how much of that dust she must be breathing in.

Her head hurt, she realized. A headache, most certainly brought on by the previous night's activities. It had certainly been an odd night. Valerie couldn't think of an odder normal night, in the sense that her ghost fights in general qualified as _much_ stranger. Actually, the entire day had been downright weird.

All the random little ties that took place throughout the day practically had her head spinning, although her hangover was definitely playing some part in it too.

Her feet trudged mechanically to the bathroom and her hands automatically tore open the medicine cabinet. Ignoring the directions on the bottle, she downed three aspirin. The headache was bad, but the night out was worth it. She felt a great deal better. A ghost free night every now and then was probably good for her, she figured… even if it was replaced with a night of semi-heavy drinking… next time she'd take it a bit easier.

Absently, she picked up a small paper that had been discarded on her night stand. It was a napkin from the club and bore the words 'Tucker Foley –you know; that hot guy you met last night' and a phone number, presumably his. She smiled slightly. He had been an amusing guy.

She frowned when she remembered Sam. She didn't have the details, but something of a negative element had happened to the girl. Valerie had been there to help get her out of the bar. The poor thing was just beside herself in hysterics. Of course, for Sam that meant a stony, yet clearly drunken silence. She was glad that her old friend had found a decent crowd. There was little doubt the boys would take good care of her. She let that thought comfort her.

Danny popped into her mind again. During the little time she'd spent with him, she'd taken care to study his mannerisms in a somewhat bleak attempt to figure out how she knew him, because she was sure she knew him from somewhere. The whole attempt though was pretty much futile for two reasons, the first being he hadn't done much before taking off and searching for Sam and the second being she had been a bit tipsy at the time.

Of course, in this, Tucker's phone number would really come in handy.

She didn't know why it was so important she figure the boy out, but she trusted her subconscious knew the roots of the desire and knew it wouldn't drive her to find out unless he was someone important.

She walked to the kitchen to place her water glass in the sink and discovered a white envelope sitting purposefully on her dingy tile counter. She opened it, already knowing who it was from.

_Dear Miss Grey,_

_I do hope you had a pleasant evening out. That said, I have fantastic news for you! It just so happens I was able to secure you the perfect employment opportunity; one no ghost hunt could possibly interfere with…_

Valerie grinned as she finished reading the finer details of the letter. '_Mr. Masters_,' she though joyously, '_you've just made my day_.'

-

There were sirens in the distance, ringing through the streets the untold message that something terrible had happened to someone else. This woke her, though she wouldn't know it. The sound drifted away before she could register it.

Throbbing.

Her head was absolutely throbbing. This singular thought and sensation was the world she woke up to. For a fraction of a second in the haze between unconscious and conscious, that was all she knew; throbbing, _intense_ throbbing.

She dared not open her eyes, lest it was too bright and the pain increase. It was then she heard it, ever so slightly; a soft breathing –not her own. Her eyes flashed open. Shocked and disoriented from the bright light she flailed around in an effort to escape whomever or whatever was sharing her bed.

Staying true to tradition, she fell to the floor.

"Ow," she groaned.

-

He hadn't meant to, honestly he hadn't. Nor could he say when it happened. He just remembered her and everything else sort of meshed together after that. He'd underestimated how tired he'd been. He hadn't slept so well since… the last time he'd occupied that bed.

His awakening was abrupt as Sam began frantically moving about. He sat up immediately after hearing a bit of a thump and the muttering of "ow".

He peered over the side of the bed. "Are you okay, Sam?"

She glared at him, holding her hand on her soar spot. "What do you think? …Ugh, I feel like I just ate a bag of Cheetos through my nose…"

"Well… that was an interesting analogy," Danny replied with an innocent smirk. "You should get back to bed."

"Thank you for the advice," she bit back. "And to think, I would still be in bed if you hadn't scared the absolute crap out of me!"

Danny promptly popped off the bed and helped her up. "Somebody needs some aspirin and my handy-dandy hang over elixir."

Sam looked up at him from her spot on the bed. "A part of me wants to be surprised that you have your own little hang-over cure, but then I just have to remind myself that you_ are_ a guy."

Danny quirked an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Aspirin!" Sam ordered.

"Alright, alright," Danny backed out of the room and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He returned to her side, having made a detour to the kitchen for a glass of water, with the aspirin shortly.

"Um, okay… so do you mind if I make you that elixir of mine?" He asked.

"At this point, I'd be tempted to eat meat if you told me it would make my head stop pounding," she replied. "The kitchen is yours to have your way with."

"You won't be sorry," he promised as he marched to her kitchen.

Sam had a thought along the lines of 'famous last words'. And then she set her mind on figuring out why he was even there to begin with. The fact that she couldn't remember was definitely not a good sign, especially since she had woken up to him in bed next to her.

But she trusted him. Besides, it looked like he hadn't even gotten under the covers. She could tell because the portion of the blanket beside her was mussed up, but flattened and apparently still tucked in.

The thing that troubled her was what she could remember of the night before. They were just flashes, but they were not good. The definitely remembered _him_, _he_ was very hard to forget. In fact, _he_ might have been her most vivid memory of the entire night.

What if he had said something? What if she had said something? The possibilities were endless and Sam's mind was reeling with the horrible scenarios. But Danny hadn't ditched her. He had stayed by her side all night.

All thoughts were halted as she clutched her head. 'Good god!' she thought in agony, 'that blender is so evilly loud!'

It seemed to last an eternity, an incredibly painful eternity. Finally, the dreaded noise ended and a smiling Danny emerged holding a glass filled with a thick, brownish colored, and thoroughly unappetizing liquid. He held it out to her. "This will make you feel better," he promised.

She took it from him apprehensively. Bringing it slowly to her lips, she sipped and gagged, only barely avoiding spilling the foul tasting concoction. She glared at Danny.

"It tastes nasty, I know," he said. "But trust me, if you just drink that down it'll work!"

"What's in this?" Sam demanded.

"Secret recipe," Danny informed her. "I'm forbidden by higher forces from telling anyone."

"Or maybe you just like to torture me and you are just making me drink this stuff for your own sick amusement," Sam suggested with a disdainful look at the beverage in her hands.

"Perhaps, but at least if you drink it there is some chance of you feeling better," he shrugged. "And besides, you'd said you'd eat meat if it would help your condition and I can tell you with absolute certainty that drink contains no meat."

Sam made a face.

"Oh quit being such a baby," Danny chided. "If I can survive this stuff, you most certainly can. Do you honestly think I would do this just to torture you?"

"No," she pouted. "Fine, I'll drink the stuff." Closing her eyes, she chugged like she'd never chugged before. Once the foul substance was consumed, she grabbed the still half-full water class from her nightstand and chugged that too, to rid herself of the unpleasant aftertaste. "Ugh," she muttered.

Danny chuckled. "Baby," he taunted. "I promise you'll start to feel better soon."

"I'd better," she threatened. "Hey, toss me the blanket from the couch, would you? I'm kind of freezing."

"Sure." He grabbed it and draped it around her. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks," she replied as something odd dawned on her. "Hold on, did you sleep without covers all night?"

"Uh," Danny responded. He tried desperately to conceal a look of guilt and panic on his face. '_Why does she have to be observant? Why, why, why…!_'

"You did, didn't you?" Sam accused. "So, do you _want_ to freeze to death or something?"

"I… uh, have a high tolerance for cold," he said.

"A high tolerance? I _guess_ so. I'm still amazed that you recovered so quickly from your snow drift episode."

"It took a while to develop," he explained, his voice a pitch higher than normal. "I spent a lot of time outside in the cold when I was younger." He was on a role. "I guess it's lucky that I have it or I probably would have been dead when you found me."

Sam thought about it for a moment and decided it was plausible. He must have just been caught off guard by her accusatory tone. Maybe. A sliver of doubt took up residence in the back of her mind.

Danny took her brief silence as a chance to change the subject. "So… do you remember much about last night?" He sat at the foot of her bed.

"Not… much," Sam admitted, '_But having said that, I do remember quite a bit more than I'd like to_.'

Danny's eyebrows furrowed. "Do you remember… _that guy_?"

She nodded reluctantly.

"Did you know him? Has he bothered you before? Why was he bothering you last night? Do you know where I can find him? I'd like to give that jack-"

"Danny! Too many questions!" Sam cried. "I… I'd never seen him before last night. He probably mistook me for someone else and started to harass me when you showed up and-"

"Sam." Danny's tone said he didn't buy her story for a second. She was lying. Why was she lying? Who was that guy? There _were_ too many questions; Sam hadn't been lying about that. What was she trying to hide? "You recognized him when he showed up, I know you did. Was he the reason you got yourself so drunk?"

"I… Danny, I… please, I'd just rather not talk about it, okay?" she pleaded. She couldn't look him in the eye and instead studied the weave of the blanket he had gotten for her moments before. She focused harder when she felt his weight shift on the bed; he'd moved closer to her. No, no, no. It was all happening way too fast.

He shook his head. "Not okay, Sam," he said in a gentle, yet serious tone. "I want to help you, please tell me. I don't like that someone would talk to you like that."

Sam's breath wracked as she chocked back tears. If only he knew, if only he knew. Another lie. "H-he's a guy I used to know a while ago. He was always a jerk and I… well I haven't seen him in a long time and he found me last night and… I'd honestly just not talk about it Danny. It's past." She smiled slightly as she remembered something, "Besides, he'll probably back off now that you decked him." Actually, that situation struck her as incredibly funny. She tried to laugh, but it bubbled out strangely with a sob, "I can't believe you _decked_ him."

"The way he was treating you, he was demanding it," Danny replied. He allowed himself a small smile upon seeing that his actions had cheered Sam up.

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "Guess we're even now, huh?"

"Even?" Danny asked. "Even how?"

Sam shrugged. "I saved you, you saved me… see? Even."

"Oh, you mean about taking me, a complete stranger, into your home and basically giving me a second chance at life, not to mention a good living?" Danny clarified. "Then no, we are _not_ even. Not by a long shot."

"You say that like you've got a job already," Sam commented.

"What? Oh that's right. I never told you," he grinned. "Well Sam, as it is I am the newest and first photographer on payroll for the Spiritual Weekly."

"And you didn't tell me because…?" Sam prompted.

"Because I forgot," Danny replied. "And it looks like your starting to feel like your old self."

"That's because I'm baffled that you could forget to tell me you've got a job! And the aspirin probably helped too…" She shrugged. "But that's aside from the point, how could you forget?"

"I was preoccupied with other things," he explained, "your birthday for instance. I wanted to make it extra perfect because of how great things have been turning out. I don't think you realize just what you've done for me, Sam."

Sam was taken aback by the sudden seriousness of his tone. She desperately wanted to make light of it. "I just gave you a place to sleep for a couple nights and loaned you the money for a camera. You act like I gave you a million dollars and a new sports car!"

"A million dollars and a sports car couldn't have done for me what you have," Danny assured her.

Sam blushed and picked at the blanket. Since when was she bashful? She glanced at him with a smile. He smiled back.

And things were going so well, insanely well. Sam waltzed into his life and made everything better before he even registered what was happening.

But of course, Vlad had to make his grand entrance. He didn't know what to do, but even the mere thought of casting Sam out of his life was out of the question. He would just have to protect her the best he could.

He left at her declarations of being fine just a couple hours later with the promise that she would visit him at work the coming Tuesday and they would have lunch together. She was such a weird girl, so pushy, so mysterious.

Was it any wonder he couldn't say no?

He was in a bad way. He couldn't become so attached to her, it was dangerous. He couldn't allow himself to bring anyone else into harms way, into his life. He didn't want any harm to come to her. But she kept pulling him back and he kept willingly following. He'd known the girl all of two weeks and already he was hooked… no, _addicted._

This was bad, this was _very_ bad.

And yet the smile plastered on his face broadcasted otherwise.

-

Sam leaned helplessly against the door. She'd gotten rid of him, reluctantly on both parts. She had to be at work in two hours. Oh god, work. Had she forgotten already? And she'd forced him to accept a lunch invitation on Tuesday.

Oh, she groaned and slid down the wall. Life sucked.

Why was it everything she wanted she couldn't have? It wasn't like she asked for much; just a job she could actually respect, a family that would accept her, if only just a little, and Danny, if only as a friend and nothing more.

But no. Circumstances in the world decided that Sam would receive none of these things. She was destined to be alone, unhappy, without the respect of her self or others. She was a looked down upon smudge on the window of society. It was only a matter of time before she was wiped away and forgotten like all the others before her.

But that side of her that knew no reason wouldn't hear it. She was too damn stubborn to just remove him from her life. Why was he so special? What made him so different? She could hardly say and at the same time a thousand tiny things crossed her mind.

It was just a crush she decided after having showered and dressed. It was just a crush and nothing more. It was fleeting just like everything else; there was no bigger force at work here. She had just been taken by surprise; this was nothing, absolutely nothing. She adjusted her tight, pleather skirt and adorned her ankle length overcoat. Time for work. Time for the proper mind-set. No hope, no time for hope.

As much and as hard as she tried to believe it, that suborn, reasonless voice in the back of her mind refused to shut up, refused to conform.

Five hours at worked dragged on like five eternities, one after the other.

-

When her work day drew to a close, she was confronted by Lydia, ever enthusiastic Lydia. Sam often wondered how Lydia managed, whether or not her mind inhabited two separate planes so she could escape and return whenever she needed. That would be so lovely.

Lydia invited her for Chinese food to thank her for the "amazing concert" with the "incredible seats". Sam suspected it was also to interrogate her within an inch of her life about her birthday. How fun, she'd get to relive every detail with a slight emphasis on what she wanted so desperately to forget.

But she knew telling Lydia would help. She understood. Having a friend who knew all your deepest, darkest secrets was a godsend.

She smiled, patiently waiting her turn while Lydia chatted about the concert. Lydia, when satisfied with her thanks, took her turn. She listened attentively, smiling all the while. It slowly slipped to a look of sisterly concern.

When Sam finished her story she was angry. Tears welled up and she felt hopelessly idiotic, a crying baby.

Danny had called her a baby.

Oh god, she needed help.

And Lydia understood. "Oh Chika," she said. She wrapped her younger friend in a hug. "He's not worth it if he can't love you unconditionally, you know that right? He seemed like a nice kid, Sweetie. He took care of you; he fought for your freaking _honor_! You've got him under a spell or something."

Sam sat back and smiled pitifully with thick mascara running down her cheeks. She sighed, knowing she'd sound ridiculously cliché, "But what about when the illusion fades?"

"I guess it's just a matter of doing what you want," she shrugged. "If he's not worth the risk, then dump him. It's as simple as that."

Sam was stunned. She'd had the thought before, but Lydia spelling it out so plainly, so bluntly made her think; maybe it was really that simple.

A weight lifted off her shoulders.

Hope.

-

"I did as you asked," the voice said; tired, drained, saddened.

"Yes," was the unconcerned response.

A dejected sigh and, "What else?"

"Keep your eye on _him_ and get out of my sight." The conversation was over.

He spoke to the empty space. "Whatever you say."

-

It was Sunday evening when Danny left Sam. Tucker had been happy to learn that Sam was alright. That they were going to lunch that Tuesday, that nothing alter-ego related occurred while he was there.

Everything was going so well. Danny was happy with everything, that's what he told himself. He smiled more, a lot more.

Could it last? It couldn't last. Beneath the surface his mind and heart were locked in turmoil, trying desperately to find the best course of action. Logic stated that he should distance himself from everyone on the chance he could put them in danger. His heart told him that he deserved some joy in his life. It was black or white; yet he managed to mix them together.

And then there was the matter of his secret. So far it had been easy to keep. Maybe it would continue being easy? He couldn't tell. Who knew when a ghost would burst out of the wood work? He'd lost count of the opportunities they'd taken and the moments they'd inturrupted.

_'Speak of the devil.'_

A chill, a shiver down his spine, the tell tale blue breath. He grabbed his camera and sped off into his secret life.

It made him happy to snap the picture of the easily apprehended ghost. It was like a sign that something was working out for him. Finally he was a part of something his secret life could not screw up. He had a job and he was going to keep it that way. Little accomplishments go a long way; another perfect photo and another easy catch.

With his mood lifted, Danny returned to his shared apartment.

Tucker's mood, too, was lifted slightly. He was well aware of the conflicts Danny was dealing with, although they went unspoken. To have his friend ever so slightly more like his old self was a blessing. They could have fun for a while with a video game or a movie and pretend for a little while that ghosts could only be found in scary stories and superheroes the confines of comic books.

Two twenty-one year old boys wasted a lazy afternoon.

Somehow, it just shouldn't have seemed so unbelievable.

They would enjoy it while it lasted.

-

"Are you awake?"

No answer.

"Come on, I know you are. Not answering me doesn't change anything."

"I wonder why you bother to ask then," she replied in a hushed, cautious whisper. Her eyes were shut; refusing to see what she didn't want to believe.

There was silence. "It tells me you know I'm here."

"Why _are _you here?"

"To help you."

There was another moment of silence. "Am I crazy?"

The voice chuckled. "You're not that lucky."

-

**:AN:** Alrighty… it's been about three months. A lot of crap has happened. A lot. Basically, I'm going to start seeing a psychiatrist soon and will hopefully get some meds… mmm, meds.

I'd rather not go into details, as the past couple months have been traumatic at best, but I'm hoping to get back on my feet soon. I hope, hope, hope.

Sorry for the somewhat crappy, piecey, not-much-happening chapter. I wanted to get it out before another month passed. Bleh.

I am really sorry for keeping you all waiting, honest. I've been in your position after all. I'm going to try harder, but just in case I can't deliver, I make no promises. My mental state is pretty temperamental.

Again, I am really sorry!

-

-DRC-

-


	9. Chapter Eight

**:AN: **Author's note at the end of the chapter...

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belong to Butch Hartman.

-

**Title: Spider's Web**

-

_**Chapter Eight**_

-

_Trust destroyed with a mighty crack_

_You turn away and don't look back_

_Leaving me; and here I shall cry_

_No more for our infernal lie_

-

Valerie Gray was determined and driven. When she had a goal, she'd go to great lengths to make sure _nothing_ interfered. Her father told her she'd gotten her one-track mind from her mother. This was a fact she was quite proud of. Her mother had been an incredible woman after all.

And she would be absolutely damned if a ghost decided to rear it's ugly head today of all days. This would be the most important Monday of her career. Well, assuming she made a good impression in her interview and actually _started_ her career.

It had taken her far longer than she would ever admit, but she finally looked perfect. Her hair was in place, her suit was pressed and wrinkle free, she'd gotten a good night's sleep and looked refreshed (for once) as a result. Yes, today was a good day for an interview.

She would make Vlad Masters proud. She'd live up to her mother's image.

-

Sam pulled her hair back into a ponytail and tucked the stragglers behind her ears. She was due to meet Danny at the Spiritual Weekly's office in twenty minutes and according to her map off the internet it would take about fifteen.

She quickly surveyed her outfit. It was perfectly conservative. Well, at least in the sense that no would could deem it _remotely_ slutty, which was her goal. Her long sleeved black t-shirt was appropriate for the weather with a mesh purple tank top to add a bit of color. For comfort and warmth, she also wore black cargo pants and combat boots. And for a dash of flare, she threw on a few chains in the form of a belt, a necklace, and a couple bracelets.

She jammed the printed directions in her pocket and pulled on a coat before she headed out the door.

She smiled sardonically as she went to her car. Never, she thought, had there been a happier person marching off to their doom.

She laughed. The time for second thoughts had come and gone ages ago.

-

Danny glanced at the tiny clock in the bottom right hand corner of his computer screen. He had just finished scanning the last of his pictures for the week into the company database. Sam was due to arrive in just a couple minutes.

Distracted by a strange anxiousness, Danny stared blankly at the bright screen, entranced by every little line making up the image. Somehow he was so afraid of what she'd say. He hadn't exactly told her what the focus of his photos was. He dreaded the questions that were sure to follow her discovery. Of course, it was a bit late for second thoughts.

"Daniel." The starched voice of Mr. Lancer yanked him back to reality. He blinked his eyes back into focus and gave his attention over to his boss. As a newbie, he couldn't very well make himself look like a slacker.

"Daniel," he repeated in more hospitable tones, "I really must tell you how pleased I am with your work. You have already exceeded my expectations. We fully expect an increase of sales with these photos. The visual quality is just plain dumbfounding. Anyway, with such high prospects on the horizon, I thought it would be the proper thing to do to invite you out to lunch at the magazine's expense."

Danny replied, "That would be great Mr. Lancer, but could we possibly reschedule? I made plans to go to lunch with a friend today. Actually, she should be here any-"

-

Sam double checked the address. '_So _this_ is the headquarters of the Spiritual Weekly_?' she pondered. Some how it seemed smaller and somewhat more rundown then she had imagined. '_Well, never judge a book by its cover_,' she counter thought grimly, considering her own shady situation.

She entered and found herself at the receptionist desk. The elderly woman who sat behind the name 'Edith' smiled kindly. "May I help you?" She asked.

"Uh, yes," Sam replied. "I'm here to see Danny Fenton. Should I just go up or…"

"Fenton?" She wondered allowed. "_Oh_! You must mean Ben. Of course you can go in, Sweetie. You wouldn't be…" she glanced at a list… "Sam Manson, would you?"

"Yeah, that's me," she said. '_Ben? What_?'

"Well I'll just buzz the door for you, Darling," Edith winked. "Ben made _sure_ I knew you were coming. And don't worry about finding him, there's not much up there to search through!" She said good-naturedly.

"Thank you very much," Sam said. Who was Ben? Maybe Danny was _less_ honest with her than she thought?

Following the buzz, Sam entered the door at the top of the stairs.

-

"Danny!" Said boy stopped mid-sentence at the familiar melody of Sam's voice. She waved and bounded over. Her disposition seemingly clashed with her black and chains.

"Speak of the devil," he said to Mr. Lancer. Then he waved back, "Hey Sam."

"Hey, nice place you've got here," she said after a quick glance around.

And suddenly, Mr. Lancer took them both by surprise. "Great Expectations! Samantha _Manson_?"

Sam's eyes widened with sudden recognition. It couldn't be! "M-mister_ Lancer_?" She asked tentatively. "What are _you _doing here?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Danny blanched. "You two _know_ each other? _How_ do you two know each other?"

Mr. Lancer was the first to regain some composure. "I believe I might have mentioned to you before that I once held a teaching position at Casper High. It just so happens that Miss Manson was lucky enough to have been one of my students."

"You're kidding," Danny remarked. This was really, really weird…

"No," the older man replied. "I'm not." After a pause he continued, "Well, shall we to lunch?"

Still caught off guard by the impromptu reunion, Sam mutely nodded. Danny, also somewhat incapacitated by the odd coincidence did not dispute it either.

Now, Mr. Lancer was not one to manipulate, at least not often. It was just that this particular case required further investigation. He remembered Miss Manson; she was difficult to forget. Even with the strict uniform in place she had always managed to standout in some way or another. Because of this, he'd seen her more often for disciplinary measures than he had seen her in the many classes of his she had taken. She had always shown such promise academically, especially in the field of English.

The girl had been different and classified as a 'Restricted Area' by most of her peers, and yet her departure had still caught him unawares. From the looks of things, she'd done well on her own. In spite of the fact she had ran away, he still felt quite proud of the girl for succeeding and defying the odds in general. He wanted to hear more about her living conditions and possibly even how she came to know his newest employee.

Besides, it was so refreshing to have a tie back to his old life.

Currently, his world felt surreal. He was partaking in something he didn't believe in, nor truly wanted to be apart of. The world of the infernal tabloid was a slap in the face to all decent literature and authentic forms of reporting. It was a joke. It wasn't serious. It wasn't important. He wasn't improving anyone's life by printing the rubbish; he was fueling the over-active imaginations of the paranoid populace of Amity City.

It made him feel sick.

And yet, there was Sam Manson; seemingly unchanged since the last time he'd seen her in class. The same disaffected youth; this time with a friend who seemed to be her polar opposite. It was strange, but again so refreshing.

He would try to go back to teaching once the economy improved… _if_ the economy improved…

So he would take the kids out to lunch and let the goddamned tabloid pick up the tab. Lancer felt he deserved the perk.

He guided them to a near-by Italian restaurant, feeling it to be the safest option. After all, who didn't like Italian? Soon they were seated and reality began to seep back into Lancer's youthful charges.

"So Ms. Manson," Lancer said conversationally. "How has life been treating you these past three years? From the looks of things you've done well for yourself."

"I do okay," she replied curtly, studying her napkin and silverware, the potted plant in the corner, the menu, a stain on the table cloth… anything but her ex-teacher.

"You've turned into a real chatterbox these past three years," he joked. "Tell me, how is it you two met? It's a curious coincidence."

"Funny story actually," Danny's voice cracked. He cleared his throat. Why did the atmosphere have to be so tense? He was reluctant to tell the story to his employer, but lying would probably not go over well with Sam. "I was going through this rough patch, you know. I was having a lot of trouble finding work and I was tired of living off my friend, so I sort of just left one day and got stuck living in the streets."

"You had impeccable timing too," Sam smirked. "The dead of winter is the perfect time to make yourself homeless."

"Yeah," Danny rolled his eyes good-naturedly at his friend. "Anyway, so at first I stuck around the nicer part of town near my friend's apartment, I figured there were plenty of places for me to borrow at night and stuff. That _kinda_ got some police officers on my case and I ended up wandering down to the slums. It had been a few days by this point and it was getting colder and I was just getting weaker everyday. So one night I pretty much just gave up and went to sleep in the snow. The next morning I woke up in a bed. Then I met Sam." He smiled shyly at the girl who saved his life.

Sam blushed a little and stared at a picture on the wall. "I did what any _decent_ person would have done."

"On the contrary Ms. Manson," Lancer smirked. "It seems to me you went above and beyond the call of duty; most people wouldn't bring a strange homeless person into their home."

"He looked harmless enough," she reasoned. "Still does."

"Hey!" Danny protested.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Trust me, Danny. _That_ was a _compliment_."

"Indeed," Mr. Lancer commented.

The waiter soon appeared, demanding their orders with a thick, unidentifiable accent. The trio answered and an uncomfortable silence perforated the atmosphere.

"Oh, Mr. Fenton," Lancer said after an excruciating silence. "I forgot to mention it earlier, but I found you a partner for your work."

Danny, whom had unfortunately chosen that moment to take a sip from his water, gagged. "P-partner?" was all he could manage. How could he have a partner? This wasn't part of the contract, Danny Phantom worked alone! '_I mean, Danny _Fenton,' he corrected feverishly in an afterthought. Besides, why did he need a partner anyway? Hadn't Lancer just complimented him on his outstanding quality that day?

"Yes, she'll be modeling reports after your pictures," Lancer replied obliviously to Danny's discomfort. "You'll _only_ have to explain your motivation behind your… ehem, photos. No need to get your boxers in a bunch."

Sam tilted her head slightly. After a moment of contemplation she said, "Danny, you never exactly told me what you take pictures of. Why does Lancer keep making it sound so scandalous?"

Danny paled in spite of himself. Although he constructed a nearly fool-proof explanation of his pictures and how he got them, all he could do was stutter, "I, uh. I… well…"

"What Mr. Fenton is _trying_ to say," Mr. Lancer smirked, "Is that he is an expert of the paranormal. He takes eh… "photos" of ghosts." He assisted his explanation with air quotes.

"No shit," she said with pleasant surprise. She wasn't the only crazy one after all…

"Language please, Ms. Manson," Lancer scolded.

Sam smirked, having been unintentionally challenged. "Pssh, please Lancer. This ain't eleventh grade English here. I'm _not_ a kid anymore."

"Yes," Lancer replied. "We can all tell from your stellar behavior. You'd think with your upbringing you'd have a little more tact than that."

That was a low blow. Lancer knew he'd overstepped his boundaries only a half second too late. He was one of the few, if only, people who knew of Sam's home issues. He cursed his proper English teacher side when Sam's eyes lost their flare and once again dropped their focus to the table.

Still, she managed to hide whatever she was feeling with her voice when she said, "Whatever, I want to hear more about Danny's ghosts." She was burning with curiosity; that's what she focused on. She did not care what the Mansons were doing with themselves these days. She did not care if they still missed her or… "I am having trouble getting my mind around the idea of you dealing with stuff like the paranormal. I figured you for more of a… _hell_, I don't even know."

Any and all explanations seemed to have momentarily escaped him. He tugged at his collar, sure it had tightened, at least a little. '_Think, Danny, think_!' He demanded. '_It's not like you've _never _done this before_!' Then something popped into his head that he hadn't thought to mention before. It was the perfect alibi; the truth. Who could suspect anything? "My parents were actually paranormal scientists. They specialized in ghost and became kind of famous ghost hunting fanatics… when it turned out they _weren't _insane and found proof in their work, I started to get a little interested."

He decided to omit the truth behind his photography though… something told him they didn't need to hear how he signed up for the class because his crush had. He figured it would be easy enough, but he had no idea how much it would save his ass later down the line. Someone must have been watching out for him. It was too bad he never actually got up the courage to talk to that girl.

Sam was floored, to say the least, "Seriously?"

Lancer scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Fenton," he said, "Fenton…"

"Yeah?" Danny answered with slightly confusion.

"The DaVinci Code!" He cried at last. "It makes sense now. I remember it _now_. Yes, yes. Good, good."

"That's great, Mr. Lancer," Sam announced. "Care to share with the rest of the class?"

"Mr. Fenton is, and I quote," he cleared his throat, "_The Boy in the Accident_."

"Huh?" said Sam.

Danny buried his head in his hands. '_My day officially sucks_.' He groaned. "Look," he exclaimed. "It is really no big deal. As we can all _plainly_ see, I'm in perfect health, no weird after-effects or anything. It was a screw up. It was _my _fault. And now, it's all in the past. That's it, _end _of story."

"I was only making a speculation," Lancer shrugged. "Speaking of things in the past, that reminds me. Ms. Manson, you wouldn't happen to remember a Ms. Gray from you school days?"

"Yeah, I remember her, why?" She allowed for the change in subject, but Danny would definitely undergo the interrogation of a life time later…

"Yes, well, in the shock of seeing you again, I completely forgot to mention that she is to be Danny's partner," he explained. "Rather ironic turn of events, I'd say."

Danny and Sam glanced at each other. Sam's eyes widened and her pupils dilated. "I finally understand it all now!" She stood up, causing her chair to tip dangerously, "I finally get _why_ I keep running into you people! My parents are playing some deprived trick on me, aren't they? My God, I am so… I can't even… Jesus Christ, I thought I got away from their _fucking_ mind games!"

This earned her several shocked and angered looks from the surrounding restaurant patrons.

"_Samantha_!" Mr. Lancer hissed. "This is hardly the time for such theories. First of all, I've seen neither hide, nor hair of your parents since the initial investigation into your disappearance. Frankly, I should report you to them right now-"

She sat down, having expelled both her rage and her conspiracy theory in that one breath. "Sorry," she said. "Sorry. And Lancer, there is no point in calling my parents. They have absolutely no interest in finding me, I promise you. Think about it, I didn't even go that far. If they had truly wanted me home, I would have been back two days after I left."

"Now Samantha, that's not true and you know it," he said, frightened by how not even he believed his words. The fact of the matter was, Sam's parents loved her. All parents have an unconditional bond with their children. However, she had made an all too valid point. He recalled thinking it strange that they seemed so incapable of finding her. They had every means to search, after all. It was a very shady business.

Samantha Manson had an unorthodox family, to be sure. It was a family fit for a Hollywood reality TV show, probably one titled something snappy like 'Dysfunction Junction' or some such thing. Well, probably not. He wasn't an expert at thinking up reality show titles. He was an English teacher. They were rich; they were visually perfect… until their daughter started to deviate from the plan.

Of course it wasn't fair to blame Samantha for the family's problems. Being an outsider, Lancer didn't know exactly what went on behind closed doors, but from a literary standpoint, he developed some theories. Samantha, in all her dark, gothic glory, was a symbol; she personified the dysfunction that lurked behind her family's manicured lawn and expensive home exterior. His brows knitted in sympathy as he looked at his ex-student. That hurt expression dominated his memories of her.

Danny sat in silence. He could not form a coherent thought. Sam looked perfectly miserable stewing in her memories. Seemed like they made a perfect match; strange pasts and all. Sam was an honest to god human being with problems and issues all her own. He'd gotten an inkling into it from a brief conversation he'd had with her friend Lydia, but nothing substantial. He really would have to get her to tell him about it.

It certainly looked like she needed to talk to _somebody_.

The waiter must have picked up on the dreary vibes emanating from their table. He acted quickly, dropping a massive basket of crusty bread in front of them to lighten the mood. Far be it for him to allow their bad feelings soak into all the guests and spark a mass suicide in the little restaurant. That would just be bad for business.

Sam didn't want to ruin the lunch, she decided. It was stupid, why make everyone all depressed by her pathetic little sob story? So, she promptly shifted the focus off herself. "So, ghosts, huh? You're going to have to show me some of these pictures of yours. As a Goth, I'm _very_ into the paranormal. But having said that, you two _don't_ need to look like your puppy died." Then she grabbed a piece of bread and tore a piece off. She threw it at Danny.

Danny smiled slightly and shook his head, "Sam," he started.

"What?" she said, posing a challenge. She dared him to ask her anything about her past.

"You shouldn't waste bread like that," he finished, picking up on her threat.

-

Lunch with Mr. Lancer and Danny had ended on an interesting note. The conversation had grown somewhat tight and awkward and when the food arrived it was received as a welcomed opportunity for silence. And as if this wasn't enough, as the trio set off to leave the restaurant, an uproar of distress came from the distance.

"_Ghost_!" was heard, among other screams and hollers.

Danny reacted swiftly, ripping his camera out of his shoulder bag. "Duty calls," he announced before taking off in a run down the street in the direction of ever-growing commotion. "I'll see you guys later!"

"Someone must be seeing things," Lancer muttered. "Come along, Samantha, I'll walk you to your car."

Sam glanced back in the direction Danny ran surprised to see he'd already vanished from sight. Reluctantly, she followed behind him. "You don't believe in ghosts then?"

"I've yet to see one, so why should I? The thought is ridiculous!" He explained.

"So how does Danny get his pictures then?" Sam retorted.

"I assume he's very skilled with Photoshop," Lancer shrugged. "I don't know."

"How could nearly every person in this city be wrong about ghosts?" Sam continued. "That makes no sense. Just because _you_ haven't seen one, doesn't mean they're not there."

Lancer arched an eyebrow at the girl. "You believe then? Ever see one?"

Sam blushed ever so slightly, "Either I'm losing my mind, or I'm being haunted. I sincerely hope I'm not going insane, not yet at least."

"Maybe _I'm_ the insane one," Lancer chuckled. "With so much changing in the world, the last thing I need is the added threat of spooks."

"Says the man who runs the ghost tabloid," muttered Sam.

He shrugged again, "Some people are capable of believing, of faith. I just never had that ability. Sure, it works fine in whimsical fiction, but in the real world? No, I'm a facts man. Give me good solid proof, and then we'll talk."

Then, suddenly, coming fast and growing louder as it approached; a title wave of gasps and cries assaulted the streets and over took the location of Mr. Lancer and Sam Manson. Two figures, not twenty feet off the ground were fast approaching.

"Look out," the second one ordered, "Get out of the way!"

They were gone as fast as they'd arrived. Nobody had even noticed, no matter how out of place it should have seemed, the camera around the neck of the second ghost.

Still half in a daze, Sam managed to say, "Is that enough proof?"

Lancer need not reply. It was quite obviously by the gaunt look on his face that Amity City's biggest skeptic and endorser of all things paranormal was to be from then on, counted as one of many full-fledged believers. The sudden transition knocked him speechless.

The next thing he knew, he was alone in his office.

-

Sam sat in her car. She was stopped at a red light.

She was berating herself. She regretted not following Danny. How amazing would it be to see him work? Plus, she still had so many questions for him. She wanted to see his pictures, and she really wanted to figure out that whole "Ben" thing. It was very strange.

She was so confused about so many things. Why did things have to keep happening like they were? Why did these random coincidences keep happening? She couldn't help but think that something was going on. Though, she admitted it was stupid to think her parents could bother to orchestrate something of this scale, and what purpose could they have to do so? They weren't sadistic. She could never accuse them of being sadistic. Well, not _really_ anyway.

Something was going on.

A chill ran down her spine and only increased her suspicion. There was a sharp temperature drop in her car, even though the heater was still on full blast. "What do you want?" she asked. She kept her eyes trained on the road and nothing else. The light had turned green.

"You know you missed me," the disembodied voice replied.

"Sure," Sam grated. "I missed you like lemon juice in a paper cut."

"Ouch," it replied. "That was harsh. What'd I ever do to you?"

"Aside from the whole scaring the crap out of me and haunting me thing?" she asked. "Not much."

"You've got to stop seeing me as a threat, babe," the voice advised. "I'm here to help you after all."

"It would make things all the more easier if I _could actually_ _see_ you," Sam argued. "I'm getting sick of talking to _nothing_."

"All in due time, _Doll_," the voice assured her. "All in due time."

Sam pulled in sharply and parked sharply in her marked spot. She turned to the vacant front seat. "Don't you _ever_ call me that again."

-

Danny didn't catch the ghost. Somehow it just disappeared, as in it was just gone from the dimension. Somehow, this ghost had the ability to enter and leave the Ghost Zone at will. Although not his most powerful offender, this ghost, this Jonny 13, was now to be put on the 'High Threat' list.

When he arrived at Tucker's apartment, he immediately pulled out a laptop from its concealed location and updated all the information he had, along with a photograph.

He couldn't shake the feeling that this ghost looked eerily familiar. It unnerved him.

And suddenly, strangely, he had the strong desire to go check on Sam.

Something wasn't right. This much he knew.

He just hoped it wasn't as bad as he thought it was.

-

**:AN:** Look at that! An update in a little less than three weeks! Not as fast as I had intended, but still a step up from three months, if I do say so myself.

As you can see, the plot is thickening. Muahahaha.

In other news… holy crap! **I have nearly 100 reviews**! I have never, ever had that many before… EVER! This is really very terribly exciting. Yay!

Okay, so I just have to ask that you all help me reach that flipping awesome goal… 100 reviews! That would just be far too sweet for words, though something tells me I would probably find something to say eventually.

Alrighty, you've read… now please, please review!

-

Love,

-

-DRC-

-


	10. Chapter Nine

**:AN:** Sorry for the delay everyone! **Semi-Important Author's Note at the end!**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Danny Phantom, all the credit for him and related characters belong to Butch Hartman.

-

**Title: Spider's Web**

-

**_Chapter Nine_**

_-_

_The spider's web falls to the ground_

_On it I fall without a sound_

_Down far into the black abyss_

_And here I meet my demon's kiss_

-

Sam Manson sat on her couch, almost alone in her apartment.

"You talk a lot, but so far you haven't exactly said anything even remotely helpful," Sam remarked lazily. She had become accustomed to speaking to the empty, darkened room. "So you must understand my being skeptical."

"Hey, all I'm asking is for you to have a _little_ faith," the room retorted with an attitude unfitting of its atmosphere. Sam could almost imagine the formless, faceless being pinching its thumb and forefinger together for emphasis… supposing it even had a thumb and forefinger.

"See, here's what I don't understand," Sam adjusted her position, sitting up a little more. "I don't see any fathomable reason why I should have any faith it you. In fact, I'm pretty sure I don't need what ever help you have to offer."

"So you're saying there's no big conflict you're going through? No _secrets_ you're keeping from _anyone_?"

She leaned back. She could see her breath and feel a concentrated cold just hanging before her. If she had to guess, the ghost was just inches from her face. It unnerved her, but no more than the ghost's awful, truth-laden words.

The cold receded. "I know more than you think I do, Baby-cakes."

"Why could you possibly want to help me? I mean, did I used to know you or something? I just don't understand. It makes no sense."

"It makes perfect sense," the specter reasoned with a far off quality in the disembodied voice. "I just want to save you from making the same mistakes I made."

It wasn't long after those ominous words that Sam felt the heaviness of the room. She was left alone in the dark and shadows. The darkness held no alluring quality for her tonight. Regardless, it never occurred to her that she might turn on a lamp. No, she sat paralyzed in an unfamiliar attitude. She sat suspended amidst a dark reality; a cold, dank hole.

A knock at the door forced her to move and with a surprising swiftness. She leapt to her feet and flicked on a few lights before standing on her toes to peer through the hole that was situated annoyingly above her eye level. She pushed her self back and cocked her head to the side. '_Well I wasn't expecting him_,' she thought pleasantly, forgetting all about darkness and the frightening things it hid.

She twisted the deadbolt latch and opened the door. She leaned lazily against the frame. "Hello Danny, what brings you here?"

"I just wanted to apologize for taking off on you like that earlier," he said sheepishly as she moved over to let him in.

"I can't exactly blame you for taking off," she replied. "I was ready to bolt myself… the whole thing was a bit awkward, wasn't it?" She led him to the couch where they both sat down.

"Yeah," Danny agreed. So many questions just swam through his mind, but he didn't think Sam would appreciate the attack. "So Lancer was your teacher, huh? What was that like?"

Sam thought for a moment. "Annoying," she said. "But he was one of those annoying teachers that cared. Everyone hated Lancer, but most of them loved him. I know that doesn't make any sense, but since when has that mattered?" Danny smiled and she continued. "Anyway, when were you planning on showing me your pictures? Aside from that blur today, I haven't actually _seen_ a ghost up close. I'm not as lucky as you."

"Well, I was planning on showing you earlier, but the whole Lancer and you thing kinda distracted me," he replied. "Sorry. I could take you back another time if you'd like. But really, you should count your blessings. Ghosts aren't the most fun thing to deal with; they are temperamental, dangerous, unpredictable… You shouldn't go near one unless you know how to protect yourself," he warned her. Cruel irony laughed; he was making her prejudice against himself.

The advice bothered Sam. She thought of her own little ghostly problem, the ghost who claimed to want to help with some random issue or other. Surely, surely they _all _couldn't be bad. It occurred to her that she was talking to the closest thing she'd ever get to a ghost expert. If there was ever a time to be curious, she realized, this was it. "They can't all be bad, can they? I mean, am I right?"

"Well yeah," he grinned. "Of course they aren't _all_ bad. They are like people, scratch that- they _are_ people, only dead and a little more single minded and uninhibited. If they want something, they don't bother to think of consequences. Of course, some of them want nothing more than a peaceful existence, but you rarely hear about those because they don't like to come out much."

"Are those peaceful ones the only good ones?"

"Not exactly," he decided after a moment. "Rarely, very rarely I've come across some ghosts that are active and are genuinely good. But again, they tend to stay away from the limelight because publicity causes nothing them but trouble." He hesitated, "But then again, I've also heard of a very active good ghost. Maybe you've heard of him, Danny Phantom?" '_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_' he berated. If he could have gotten away with it, he would have smacked himself.

Sam struggled to remember, "It seems familiar, but I really don't keep up with the news at all. I mean, occasionally I'll watch the news for the weather, but that always turns out to be a disappointment." She leaned back and stretched her back. "You really know your stuff don't you?"

"Uh… heh, yeah," he grinned, "Comes with the territory what with my parents and all."

She stared at her ceiling for a second, "Maybe I should start reading that tabloid, I could probably learn a thing or two… I mean, ghosts are becoming a lot more common around here, so I would be good to know."

"Yeah, you're right," he nodded. "It's always good to know what you're up against. Plus, you'd get to see more of my pictures every week."

"Hmm, speaking of the tabloid, Mr. Lancer was pretty much shell-shocked into a believer this afternoon." She glanced at him. "It's funny how strong a person's resolve can be, isn't it? I mean, he's held out all this time thinking that there weren't any ghosts, even with all the evidence and sightings… and he was still shocked out of his wits when he found out he was wrong."

Danny shrugged. "It's understandable. It's hard to have faith in things; he probably thought it was a government ruse to take people's minds off of the real issues."

Sam thought about it, "That makes sense."

They sat in silence.

"Oh!" Danny exclaimed, startling Sam. "I almost forgot, I've got something for you!" He began rummaging through his messenger bag.

"Really? Because I-"

"Here it is!" He proudly held up what looked to be a very technologically advanced thermos.

"What?" Sam blinked as she tentatively accepted the odd… 'gift'. "You brought me… soup?"

Danny laughed. "No, it… well… Okay, the thing is… You know how my parents were all into ghosts? Well, they kind of invented a lot of ghost-related stuff. Like that thermos, in fact, it's called the Fenton Thermos."

"So… this is _ghost_ soup?"

"No! It catches ghosts," he explained. "Um, it kind of creates this vortex that sucks them in. It's hard to explain, I don't really understand how it works or why it works, my parents were the inventors, not me. But the point is, you can use it to protect yourself… if ever, you know, you happen to find yourself in a bad situation with a ghost."

Sam studied the device and arched an eyebrow. "A thermos? You'd think they'd find a snazzier… I don't know…" She glanced at the thermos.

"Those are my parents for you," he replied with a nostalgic smirk.

-

"It was a real pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Manson," a smart looking businessman shook Mr. Manson's hand with a bright, nearly genuine smile.

"Yes, well I can tell you that the sentiments of Axion Labs are mutual, if not more so," Mr. Manson replied with fervor. "Dalv Corp has literally pulled it from the jaws of ruin!" He chuckled. "It would be Enron all over again and I highly doubt the economy could handle that kind of blow right now."

"Well, what can I say?" the man casually shrugged. "I'm always looking to assist a worthy cause. It would be a shame for a company with a history like Axion Labs to just be given the cut. Besides, I'm certain that with a slight shift in direction, Axion Labs will prove more than profitable, for _all _parties involved." He sent Mr. Manson an implying look.

"I couldn't agree with you more, Mr. Masters," he grinned. "I couldn't agree with you more."

"Please," he implored, "call me Vlad."

The two men bid their farewells with a wishing of "Happy Holidays" and went their separate ways.

Vlad Masters retreated to his office. The business merger had gone very smoothly. Everything was going exactly as planned… and as a bonus, young Daniel Fenton had unwittingly found his fellow business tycoon's long lost daughter. This would work nicely if, later on when things got messy, Manson wanted to cop out.

It was impossibly convenient.

But now, for his first order of business as the new CEO of Axion Labs, a subsidiary of Dalv Corp was to employ Jackson and Madelyn Fenton to kick start this weapons and defense company's newest line of products…

Yes, everything was meshing together so nicely.

-

It was a couple days later. Danny had returned to his and Tucker's home from "work" to somewhat of a surprise. A professionally dressed, yet harried looking young woman stood waiting for him in the formal sitting room.

"I'm guessing from the look on your face that you weren't expecting me."

"You could say that," Danny choked.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

He shook his head.

She sighed, "Little brother, I'm here to take you home."

"Jazz," he said upon finding his voice, "You… you know I can't go back." It wasn't a matter based on ability, for clearly it was physically within his means. No, it was a matter of principal, it was a matter of survival.

"No," her stare hardened. "No, I _don't_ know that. If I knew that, I wouldn't be here right now. Everyone misses you Danny. Mom and dad, do you even know the last time you saw them? The last time you saw me?"

"I… I…" he stammered. "Well… if you wanted to see me so badly, why didn't you come sooner?"

"Oh, Danny," his sister sighed. "You haven't exactly made it easy, have you? No address or anything? You've even got your friends lying for you! I tracked down Tucker's work number a few weeks ago and he told me he had no clue where you were!"

"He wasn't lying!" Danny cried in defense of his best friend. "You and mom and dad aren't the only ones I tried to leave."

"But you went back to Tucker," Jazz quietly rebutted.

"That's because I…" he paused.

"Because why?" his sister prompted, readily awaiting his explanation.

"Because… someone saved my life," he said finally. "I almost died on my own, and this girl just saved me. It was amazing really, in one day she pretty much changed everything. Hell, because of her I have a job that I can actually keep!

"I went back to Tucker because I knew that I wouldn't be a burden on him much longer," he explained. "I'm sick and tired of just bringing everyone down, putting everyone in-"

"At least come home for Christmas," she begged. "Even _Tucker_ went home for Christmas! We don't want presents, we don't want to interrogate you to within an inch of your life; we just want you. No strings attached."

"I… I'll think about it."

"Danny Christmas is in two days! You don't have a lot of time to think about it! Besides, I'm sure Tucker won't be sticking around. Did you really want to spend Christmas alone? Again?" She asked. "Look, you can even bring that girl who saved your life if you want, whatever gets you home. They've got something to tell you, Danny. Please come?"

"Alright, alright, fine," he relented with a sigh. "You've twisted me arm." He gasped slightly as his sister pulled him into a strong hug.

"You have no idea how much this means to all of us Danny," she whispered. "I just knew you'd come around."

"Hey Jazz?"

"Yeah?" her reply was muddled by her brother's shoulder.

"How'd you get in here anyway?"

Jazz grinned.

-

Sam studied her friend with reserved amusement. "Let me get this straight. You want me to come and spend Christmas with you and your family?"

"Yes?" he requested with pleading eyes. "Come on, please Sam? I mean, you know… unless you have plans or something."

"Danny, I don't know how to break this to you," she grinned. "But I'm Jewish."

"Oh," he replied. But he didn't let that shake him. "Well… then don't think of it as Christmas, think of it as… a cultural study! Yeah, you can just observe it… with my family… and eat with us… and yeah, you might have to wear a sweater and be forced into the family picture…"

Sam took his little tirade to think things over. When she was younger, the holiday season had been her favorite time of the year. Warm feelings, smiling faces, holiday specials on television. Everyone was so nice and together. Everyone took a little time to be nice. The feeling deteriorated over the years though, with the ever growing turmoil in her family. She hadn't celebrated anything in years… unless you counted the "traditional" Chinese take-out night she had with Lydia every year on Christmas. She tried to fight it, but her lips twitched into a grin. Lydia always claimed it wasn't a "Christmas tradition" because it only fell on the 25th of December coincidentally… Maybe… maybe this year she could…

"Fine," she said with the utmost finality. "Fine, I'll go with you."

"Wait… you will?" His eyes lit up. Sam laughed at his enthusiasm.

"Not sure why you'd want me there to darken the festivities, but sure, why not? I could probably use a change of pace," she shrugged. The infamous Parlor would be closed for the day anyway. It always was, as a rule. Paul had a loving wife at home, after all.

"Oh I'm sure my parents would love you," he exclaimed. "Besides, my sister told me to invite you and… well… if you were my friend you wouldn't let me go through it alone."

"Alright, alright," she smiled. "Well I guess that means I'm your friend then."

"Yes, yes it does," he nodded matter-o-factly. "Oh, and before I forget, today was pay-day. So I wrote you a check." He pulled it out of his jacket's inner pocket and handed it to her. She tentatively took it from him. "Ha," he continued. "Since you've already promised to go, you can't back out of it!"

Sam rolled her eyes and dryly replied. "You trickster, you; I have been conned."

"Alright," he rubbed his hands together. "Well, you'd better get packing; we've got to go soon!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on." Sam pulled a duffel bag out from her hall closet. It was huge, but it was the only bag she had… bad memories. She decided to start with packing her toiletries.

While she was in the bathroom, a slight blue mist came out of Danny's mouth. The casual observer might have thought it was due to the cold, well, had he been _outside_ that could have been the case. But no, it held a far more ominous meaning. Danny cursed under his breath. He had to get out of there. Fast. "Hey Sam?" he called.

"Yeah?"

"I just remembered that I really have to do something right now before we leave, so I'm going to go do that now. Meet me at Tucker's in an hour, will you?"

"What?" she came out of the bathroom just as her front door shut. Danny was gone. "Okay," she replied to no one. "I'll meet you at Tucker's."

One hour later, just as she had promised (or had she? He wasn't exactly there to hear her consent), the arrived at Tucker's. She nearly jumped in surprise as the door was opened by a fiery red-head she'd never seen before.

The woman regarded her with initial distaste, but she forced it down (not before Sam noticed). It was all the black. It was so dreary, this girl. So unlike what she was. It was just a slight shock to her system, but she'd dealt with plenty of the darker sort. They were always the most interesting people, albeit severely screwed up more often than not. "May I help you?"

"I'm looking for Danny Fenton," she replied coolly.

"Oh?" The woman asked. "He's not here right now."

"What! Have you seen him at all? I mean, is he going to be right back?"

The woman shrugged and shook her head.

Sam sighed. "He told me he'd meet me here. So… do you mind if I come in?"

"Huh, oh yeah, come in," the woman stepped aside. She studied Sam as she walked past. "I'm Jasmine Fenton, by the way. Who might you be?"

"Oh," Sam said as she processed the information. "Oh! You're Danny's… sister?" Jasmine nodded. Sam held out her right hand. "I'm Sam Manson."

They shook hands. "So you're the girlfriend?"

Sam froze and turned her head sharply to stare at her, "What? Did, did he tell you that?"

Jazz was taken aback from the somewhat hostile response. "Well, no. I just assumed there was _something_ going on between you two from the way that he... I'm guessing I'm off base?"

"Yeah," she relaxed with a calming breath, "Yeah, I don't date."

"Hnn," Jazz remarked. She let herself relax on the couch. "So you do _like_ my brother, then."

"Well, sure I _like_ him," Sam replied with a defensive glint in her eye. She remained standing and hadn't put her bag down. Her posture was stiff.

Jazz smirked. "You _know_ what I mean," she winked. "You don't seem the type to rush off to a family Christmas with a family you don't even know unless you've got a pretty good reason. Romantic feelings are a pretty good reason, I have to admit. The whole 'meet-the-parents' thing is very relationship-esque, don't you think?"

"Well," Sam glared, "don't you just have the whole world pegged?"

"I'm just making a speculation." Jazz arched an eyebrow, "If that's not the reason, then what is?"

"It just so happens that I like the holidays and miss celebrating," Sam snapped. "That, and the fact that my _friend_ begged me to go. Besides, I mean, he's been so nice to me. I don't meet a lot of people like him, ever really."

"Yeah, he's something special."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, momentarily allowing a nostalgic smile to flutter across her face. It gave her whole appearance resonating warmth, but it didn't last long.

"So, do you mind if I ask why you seem so opposed to dating my little brother when you seem to obviously have some feelings for him?"

Sam had a distant look in her eyes. "We'd hurt each other… so badly." Then she seemed to snap back to reality. "Not that it's any of your business. Besides, I'm sure he'd rather find someone more… I don't know. I'm not your typical girl."

"Danny's not a typical boy," she retorted. "Nor is he from a typical family, for that matter. You'd fit right in. We are a nice little bubble of dysfunction."

Sam smiled darkly. "You really have no clue."

-

Danny wandered into the apartment two hours later than he had intended. Red had shown up, again. And a news crew. It made the otherwise only slightly complicated situation altogether far more complicated.

The ghost was only a minor one; it didn't even have a stable physical form, like Johnny 13 for instance. It shouldn't have taken him long at all to take care of it. It didn't take him long to take care of it. But, as stated, Red showed up. As usual, she decided that today would be the day Phantom went down for good.

She seemed to have a renewed zest for the hunt, which meant that Phantom had a far more difficult time evading than usual. He'd taken a couple hits and was almost given a major blow… then the news crew showed up. That had actually been his saving grace.

The Channel 4 News team had successfully scared away Red.

She was able to make a clean getaway from them. Phantom however was destined to be the top story on the six o'clock news.

His mind rather consumed by the fight, he was caught off guard by Sam's presence when he made his way home. She was very clearly not pleased with him… until she saw noticed how ravaged he looked.

She asked him (in a very concerned way) what kind or errand would do _that_ to him and make him two hours later than he'd said he'd be.

Jazz jumped to his rescue and the next thing he knew, he was all buckled into his sister's car being informed that they'd be arriving in five minutes. He leaned over and looked into the backseat. Sam just stared at him with an unreadable look on her face. She openly stared, yet there was nothing accusing about it. It was just… confused. He smiled at her and would have said something, but she cut him off with the simple action of looking out the window. She gave him the cold shoulder and it hurt.

He sighed and settled back into his seat. He glanced at his sister, who spared him a sympathetic look in return.

Danny sighed. Once again he was faced with the painful reminder that normal relationships were out of the question. He was forever plagued with a higher priority. True, some people cared enough about him to accept that, but in turn he cared to much about them to let them have the burden. It was his and his alone.

'_This was a mistake_,' he thought miserably. But, oh how he wanted to just forget, just for a little while. Oh how he wanted to pretend, just for Christmas at least, that he could have friends, family, love… He could see Sam through the side view mirror. She was staring at the back of his head, through the back of his head. She was thinking.

She'd already noticed something was wrong.

He would really hate having to lie to her.

'_Maybe_…'

-

**:AN: **I'll repeat myself: I am so sorry about the late update… things have been hectic and I have never been one to deal with stress well. In the past month I've had Prom, finals, graduation and related activities… and now I'm in the process of moving. To make matters worse, my relationship with my Dad has deteriorated to the point that the other night I spent the night at my best friend's house even though she wasn't there. My saving grace is that in about two weeks he'll be mostly out of my life for a long time.

Don't get me wrong, I love my Dad… it's just that I really hate him. But that's another story for another time.

Anyway, after the move I'm going to be going on a trip and it's doubtful I'll be able to update during that time period. I promise though that I will write (on my new graduation laptop!) during those times. And… due to the aforementioned laptop, summer time updates won't be as unrealistic as I thought. Especially considering that, for the most part, I'll be away from all of my friends with only my mom, step-dad, and a part time job to occupy my time.

Having said that, I should probably point out my track record (which isn't a good one).

On a more positive note… HOLY FREAKING CRAP! I'VE GOT OVER 100 REVIEWS! This is incredible. I am in hysterics about this. I've never had this before and it feels pretty freaking sweet, like I'm moving up in the world or something.

And I'm sorry I wasn't very good about responding to your reviews. I did a few but as I've stated… my life is pretty crazy right now. And I always tend to blow things out of proportion… right.

Oh, I'm sorry for this long Author's Note.

Well, I love of my readers/readers+reviewers!

-

**R&R!**

-

-DRC-


	11. Chapter Ten

**:AN:** Dear god, how have I never noticed how many errors I made in past chapters? I'm going to have to fix them one of these days... Hopefully this chapter won't have so many... (Actual AN located at end of chapter.)

-smacks head- **_Major Edit!_**.. see end of chapter for details...

**Disclaimer: **Things I don't own include, but are not limited to Danny Phantom/ related characters (credited to Butch Hartman) and _Hate Me_ by Blue October.

-

**Title: **Spider's Web

-

**Chapter Ten**

-

_I have to block out thoughts of you so I don't lose my head_

_They crawl in like a cockroach leaving babies in my bed_

_Dropping little reels of tape to remind me that I'm alone_

_Blue October – Hate Me _

-

Sam was unpacking in the Fenton's guest bedroom. She took this moment alone to question her sanity. What in the hell had she been thinking, exactly? Had she been thinking? The outlook was not so good.

She glanced out the window. It was pitch black outside, well after eight PM. Thick clouds hid the moon, they threatened a snowstorm later on. Something about the bleak nothingness outside bothered her. She fought a chill and tugged at the blinds, succeeding in hiding the dark.

Her room was moderately plain, a standard guest bedroom. There were just a few family pictures scattered around, an empty dresser, and a packed closet (she assumed it was just arbitrary storage). The bed wasn't special, full sized with an unremarkable cream comforter. There was a TV stand in one corner, a mirror over the dresser, and a wall hanging directly in front of the bed that read "Welcome to our Home, Friend". She didn't quite know what to think about it. It was an inviting sign and yet she felt like she shouldn't have come in the first place.

Nothing makes you feel like an outsider than being all but ignored by people you've never even met before or barely know (like Jazz). This wasn't Danny's fault exactly, he was distracted. From the sound of things, he hadn't seen his family in a long time. It was only natural that he was completely focused on them. Sam just had to stand uncomfortably on the sidelines as the once tight-knit family was reunited. Danny looked so happy. She grinned at his childlike excitement as he readily greeted his parents.

To their credit, they had noticed her… eventually. She was introduced and everyone was very friendly. Jack Fenton, Danny's father, (after giving her a rather alarming bear hug) had even grabbed her bag for her and hauled it up to the guest-room. Maddie Fenton, Danny's mother, had graciously saved her from her husband and offered Sam a hot beverage. Sam politely refused and took the first opportunity she had to escape off to the guest-room.

Hadn't she wanted to distance herself from the boy? Hadn't she wanted to keep him out of her life? Hadn't she been smart once upon a time? And god, what could possibly be more uncomfortable than spending Christmas with his family? She found herself in front of the wall, she let her head make contact and let out a whiney little whimper. How, just how did she get into these predicaments?

Her self-pity-party was interrupted by a knock at the door. Sam hurried back to the dresser and called "Come in!" She started shutting the drawers she'd used to keep up appearances. It was Danny.

"Hey Sam," he smiled.

She grinned back. "Hey," she said.

"I just wanted to thank you again for coming."

"It's no problem," Sam breezily replied, lying effortlessly through her teeth. She sat on the edge of the bed.

"And… and I wanted to apologize… about earlier," he stared guiltily at the ground and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know what Jazz told you, but-"

"She didn't really tell me anything," Sam informed him. "She just kind of swooped down over you and didn't give me a chance to ask any questions, not that you were really in any shape to answer any questions…You look a lot better now though."

"Yeah," he smiled. "Yeah, that nap on the way over here really helped."

"Yeah, I guess so," Sam replied. She stared at him expectantly, waiting for Danny to answer her unasked question. What happened?

"So yeah… What happened, it was kind of crazy actually," Danny forced a chuckle as he hastily remembered the excuse he formed on the way over after he'd woken up. "I had to go take care of something at the office –man it's weird to say that- but anyway, on my way back to Tucker's I heard there was another ghost sighting, so I had to go check it out. I guess the ghost got a little pissed off that I was trying to take its picture so it sorta… went after me. I was saved though, by another ghost… Danny Phantom-"

"That good ghost you told me about a couple days ago?" Sam asked.

"Y-yeah, that's the one," he confirmed a little too quickly. "So anyway, by the time I got away I was a little worse for wear."

"Wow, you've had quite a day, haven't you?"

"Yeah, I'd say," he agreed. He silently thanked his stars that his story would check out later tonight if Sam happened to watch the news at all. But then, hadn't she said she didn't really follow it? Oh well, the point was he'd concocted something halfway believable. And he felt positively horrible about it. "Well, I should probably head back downstairs… so…"

"Oh… yeah," she nodded, "Go ahead." He left and Sam thought over what he'd told her. It was very believable. Hell, she did believe it, on some levels… but on others… If it had been the truth, why had he been so nervous telling her? And why had Jazz just accepted his condition without question? She was quite obviously concerned about him, but it was like she knew what had happened… like it happened all the time or something.

Which didn't make sense.

Or did it?

She was so confused.

She looked up to see Danny back in her doorway, "Hmm?" She asked.

"I just asked if you were coming," he replied.

"Oh… Oh," she smiled. "Yeah, let's go." She told herself the smile was to keep up appearances. If he was keeping something from her it was best to carry on like everything was normal. He was keeping it for a reason, she knew that much. Until she found out why he was keeping it from her, or what it was, she was going to be careful.

She inwardly sighed as they walked side-by-side down the stairs. '_This is yet another excuse not to leave him alone_…'

-

"Oh but Sam, it's tradition! Everyone that comes to the Fenton Family Christmas has to be in the picture!" Mrs. Fenton grinned in amusement as her son's friend was coerced into a festive sweater and into the pose... protesting politely all the while.

To Sam's immense pleasure, the entire family seemed to be enjoying her discomfort. After giving in to the unrelenting family, Sam leaned over to Danny and whispered, "You do know I'm going to kill you for this, I hope."

To which Danny replied, "Yes, but it was so worth it." He chuckled. An evil chuckle, Sam thought.

"Okay everyone! The timer's set! Smile!" Mrs. Fenton hurried into her position.

Sam rolled her eyes, but produced a small, mildly amused smile. Her dignity was pretty much gone by this point anyway, so why not humor them? The traditional pose had Jack and Maddie sitting on the fireplace ledge, and the kids sitting on the floor. And then there were the sweaters. This year they were sporting a very loud red wool, contrasted with a reindeer/ Christmas tree combination decoration in the center.

"And now," Mr. Fenton announced, "it's Christmas fudge time!"

Maddie rolled her eyes, but smiled at her husband nonetheless, "Alright Jack, let's go get it."

Danny approached her. "So, you still planning on killing me?"

"I seem to recall you warning me," she replied dramatically. "So I might just have to kill myself instead for putting myself in the situation."

"Aaw, don't do that," Danny argued playing along. "It's Christmas."

"That may be true, but you forget one important detail; I'm Jewish."

"Well... then... you'd disappoint the menorah!"

"You are such a dork." She yawned. "It's been thrilling Danny, but I'm beat. I think I'm going to head to bed."

"Alright, good night Sam," he gave her a light hug, "Thanks again for coming with me."

"D-don't mention it." She managed to hide her flustered feelings behind a yawn and headed for the stairs.

"Good night Sam, it was great meeting you today," Jazz called from the couch. She gave the girl a knowing look.

Sam who, not that she'd admit it, completely forgot anyone else was in the room, muttered a "You too," in response. "See you guys in the morning." And she quickly resumed her sojourn to the guest room.

"Oh Sam," Danny called just before she reached the top of the stairs. She paused and turned to give him her attention. "Just remember, the menorah is watching you so don't try anything funny!"

"Pfft," Sam didn't dignify it with any further acknowledgment.

-

There was an unnatural silence. The blaring solitude awoke Sam with a start. Her eyes flashed open and soon focused on the ceiling. Everything was impossibly still, impossibly quiet, like she was the only person left in the whole world. It was so different from the busy city she had grown so accustomed to. She strained her ears, without moving lest that draw out some unfavorable silent creature, for any possible comforting sound. She discovered a slow ticking, as if from an antique clock. It was odd because she couldn't tell were it could be coming from.

It was then that a face appeared before her, a face she had never seen before. It was the pale face of a woman, a tired looking face far too over done with makeup and etched with a sort of permanent look of pain. Deep green eyes bore into her own. She screamed.

"Aww, Sammy," the face crooned in a voice she had grown accustomed to these past days, or was it weeks now? She couldn't remember, all thought seemed to escape her on this eerie night. "Is that anyway to treat your old friend?"

"You," she stammered. "You're, you!"

"Oh and you do remember me!" she cried, her body slowly materializing. The rest of her body matched her face, over dressed, tired looking, ravaged... Her hands were clasped together in glee.

"And," Sam said as she regained some sense, "I guess I finally get to see whose been haunting me these past days."

"Yup!" She nodded, then she spun around, "What do you think of the digs? Eh? Am I what you expected?" She smiled.

"To be perfectly honest, I had no idea what to expect."

"Hmm," she sighed, "Well, at least that means I didn't disappoint."

"You know," Sam pointed out, "There are a bunch of people in this house, one of them is bound to hear you."

The ghost shrugged. "Not very likely."

Sam sat up and stared accusingly at the ghost, "What did you do to them?"

"I didn't do nothing!" She argued. "Your friends are perfectly fine. They just aren't gonna interfere, that's all. Look, if you wanna see why, just go ahead and look out the window, eh?"

Sam gave the deathly looking girl a piercing glare, but crept out of bed to the window regardless. She pealed through the blinds only to see something thoroughly shocking. Everything out side was frozen in place. Snow was literally stopped mid-fall.

It was then she noticed a weight around her neck. She found a pendant she'd never noticed before and was about to take it off for a better look-

"Don't do that!" the ghost cried in annoyance. "You'll make my life so much more complicated if you do that! Please, I'm here to help you!"

"You are so weird," Sam exasperated. "I don't even know why I humor you. I've got enough going on in my life to be dealing with a ghost that can... whatever you did... stop time or something. It is just too much! Do you understand that? Can you understand that?"

"Sweetheart," the ghost began, "You haven't even got a clue. If you think I'm bad, well you ain't got a chance. Things are gonna go down and I'm trying to prepare you. I'm not your enemy."

"Well then, who is?"

She shrugged again, "I dunno, I am more of a messenger than anything."

Sam took in this information. It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense. She couldn't think about it. What could she think about it? She needed something trivial, something unimportant... "What's your name anyway?"

The ghost smirked. "Well that's a question I can answer. They call me Kitty."

-

Danny had woken up with a start in the middle of the night. He groaned. It was his ghost sense again. He was thoroughly annoyed. Until he realized that the ghost was in Sam's room. He rushed in, filled to the brim with panic.

He discovered her alone, eyes closed like she was sleeping. How could the ghost have possibly left so fast? He needed reassurance, he examined her closely, only satisfied when he saw that she was breathing evenly. The breath came out in rhythmic puffs, and then a sharp intake. She had sat up and to her shock, she seemed to be in the middle of the ghost's form.

"Eeep," Sam cried. This was not, under any circumstances, good. The ghost moved back. She'd never seen this one before. She didn't know what to think, especially since his eyes seemed so familiar. The figure before her looked nothing like Kitty, whom had left her not long ago. His face was young, fresh, his form seemed healthy... if his eyes didn't glow, if his form was solid, if he wasn't floating, he could have very well been alive.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Sam could only managed to dip her head down once, not taking her eyes off of the second ghost she'd ever really seen.

Danny then realized that he could still sense the other ghost, it was just outside. He nodded slightly to Sam before taking off through the wall.

Sam stared at the window, the ghost was outside now. She fell back against her pillow. She really needed to go on sabbatical.

Danny on the other hand was shocked to find the ghost waiting for him.

"Hello there Cutie," the girl grinned.

"What do you want with Sam," he demanded.

She zoomed up to him and walked her fingers up his chest, "Why would I want anything with her?" She asked seductively. "You're enough."

Danny clenched his fists as balls of energy grew in them. He glared darkly at the girl. "Don't play games with me," he warned. "I know you were in her room and I want to know why!"

She backed away, "Oh, touchy," she pouted. She looked him over and crossed her arms. All playfulness melted from her face. "Look, she's fine. If your so curious, why not ask her yourself?" A new smirk developed. "She likes you, huh? And you like her too. It's precious, really. Adorable. I wonder though, what would you do for her? How far would you be willing to go for her protection?"

"Is that a threat?" His eyes narrowed dangerously.

The ghost girl laughed, "Of course not. I'm not stupid. You'd pulverize me. It was just a question; how far would you go for a girl you don't even know that much about?"

"Far enough," he spat. "What's it to you?"

"Only this," she smiled lightly, "your answer might be tested someday. I'm just here to let ya' know."

"Who sent you?"

"That's a secret." Her expression grew serious, "Just know this; when and if you fail that girl, you'll have to answer to me. I don't like it when girls like her get hurt, and your just the type to do the hurting." With that stunning sentiment she vanished, her calculating glare being the last thing to go.

Danny just didn't know what to think. In a daze, he found himself back in bed staring at his ceiling. Behind the wall to his right, a girl did the same. While the rest of the house slept peacefully, they waited impatiently for morning.

-

"What will you have for breakfast, Sam?" Mrs. Fenton asked brightly when the aforementioned girl walked into the kitchen. She sat heavily at the kitchen table across from Danny. They both appeared equally haggard. Mrs. Fenton took no notice, her back was turned to them as she fussed over the stove. "We've got bacon, Canadian bacon, sausage, fried eggs, toast, coffee-"

"Coffee," Sam replied hastily, lest Danny's mother offer her more fat saturated animal carcass. Besides, after the night she'd been through, she needed a good dose of caffeine.

"Make that two coffees," Danny added lifting a hand to raise attention to himself. His face was planted on the table, presumably from exhaustion. He'd trudged down to the table a little while after he'd heard his mother up and about. Sleep just wasn't coming to him.

Sam vaguely wondered what reason he had to be so tired. She slouched over the table, resting her head on her hand.

Mrs. Fenton rolled her eyes as she set down the two coffees on the table. "Well don't you two look bright-eyed and bushy tailed this fine Christmas Eve morning."

"I'm sorry," Sam muttered. "I guess I'm not used to sleeping without the sound of the city traffic... I'm sure I'll sleep better tonight."

"Well that's understandable," then she turned her attention to her son. "Well Danny, what's your excuse? Up late playing video games on line with Tucker or something?" She ruffled his hair and kissed the crown of his head lightly. Oh she missed having him around the house.

"Yeah, something like that," Danny replied, not lifting his head up. It was a little lie, but it still killed him to say it, especially when his mother was so happy to see him.

"Well," she continued, finding herself again. "Would either of you like some cream or sugar?"

"I'd love some sugar," Sam replied.

Danny took the time to pull himself up from the table and smile at his mother. "No thanks, mom. I'm good with black coffee, but that other stuff you mentioned sounds really good."

She smiled back at her son as she placed the sugar bowl on the table, it was almost as if he'd never left... "Okay, so which do you want? Canadian bacon, regular bacon, sausage, eggs, toast?"

"A little bit of each if that's okay," Danny replied brightly, almost childishly. He looked at Sam in time to see her make a face. "Oh yeah, that's right," he thought allowed. Then he met his mother's inquisitive glance. "She doesn't eat meat." His mother didn't know about Sam's particular eating habits. The night before, while he was sleeping off the after effects of the ghost fight he'd been in, Jazz and Sam and stopped for some fast food. The girls hadn't been hungry when they arrived at the Fenton residence, but Danny was starving...

"Oh I see," she remarked. "Well, is there something else you'd rather have to eat, Sam?"

"No, no," Sam said, "I'm fine, really. I don't expect you to go out of your way for me at all. You guys weren't even expecting me so-"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Fenton cried good naturedly. "Any friend of Danny's is welcome here. If I'd know sooner I could have picked up something special for you, but I don't think many stores are open today... Hmm, you know, I'm sure we've got plenty of things we could fix for you." She slid the plate she prepared in front of Danny as she paused in thought. "Yeah, we've got pasta and frozen vegetables and... well, feel free to look if you want, Danny will show you were everything is."

"Hmmfmm," he confirmed with a mouth full of bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Ehh," she said to Mrs. Fenton with a tinge of grossed-out-ness from Danny's severe lack of etiquette. "Thank you so much."

"No problem, Sweetie," she winked. "Hmm... I'd better go check on Jack and Jazz, those to would sleep all winter if given half a chance." She let out an exaggerated sigh and smiled at the two young people at the kitchen table. "I'll be back in a minute."

And so Danny and Sam were left to their own devices, if only for a short time.

Danny decided that he might not have this chance again. He hastily swallowed the food in his mouth and asked tactlessly," So, Sam... Did anything strange happen to you last night?"

"Strange how?" Sam asked, almost sputtering in her coffee.

"Umm, well..." He rubbed the back of his neck as he fought to justify the question. "Well, you know with my parents' work and all there is a lot of paranormal activity around here and I was just wondering if-"

"I saw anything paranormal?" she finished.

He nodded, they were on the same page! "Yeah."

'_Well, yeah_,' she thought. _'I did, but I don't know if it had anything to do with your parent's lab_...' Should she tell him the truth? Kitty (oh man was it weird to put a name and a face to that ghost...) never said she couldn't tell... What could it hurt? In fact, seeing as Danny seemed to know so much about ghosts, it would be the smart thing to do. "Yeah, yes I did," she replied shyly.

Danny sighed in relief. She trusted him enough to tell him. "Okay, so are you alright? I mean, did it do anything to you, or -what did it-?"

"Maddie, is that bacon I smell?" the burly Jack Fenton boomed as he strode into the kitchen still dressed in his pajamas.

Danny glanced between his parents. They couldn't continue the conversation now. One syllable about ghosts and all hell would break loose...

"Yes Jack, I made all your favorites," Maddie replied wryly. She smiled at Danny and Sam, unaware that anything had been interrupted. "Sleeping Beauty probably won't budge for another hour or so." She shook her head at the thought of Jazz. She was, by far, the most responsible young woman you could hope to meet, but when she didn't have any commitments or responsibilities to deal with... sleeping in took priority.

Danny sent Sam a look that he hoped said something along the lines of, "Can we talk about this later?"

To which she responded by arching an eyebrow and averting her attention specifically to her coffee.

They headed back upstairs at the same time after having finished breakfast. "So do you want to go on a walk a little later?" Danny asked. He had to know what happened between that ghost and Sam. Something was obviously going on and if Sam was apart of it...

"Danny, there's like, four feet of snow out there," Sam pointed out. It had been snowing all night.

Okay, time for a change of tactic. "Right, so do you want to go put on fifty pounds worth of snow gear and trudge down the street?"

"Oh, well, I'm all for trudging," she laughed.

Jazz gave them a strange look as she walked down the stairs.

"Did you have a good hibernation?" Danny joked.

"Oh my god!" she cried, pounding down the stairs. "It is _only_ nine-thirty!"

Danny chuckled. "Look, the freakishly motivated neighbor kid's parents always pay him and his friends to shovel the sidewalk. So unless he's deathly ill or something, I'm pretty sure we'll have at least a block."

"Someone's eager to get outside," Sam remarked.

"Well..." Danny rubbed his neck. What should he say now?

She rolled her eyes. "Let me know when you're ready to go." Then she walked into her room and shut the door.

Danny sighed in relief. Soon he'd have a much better grasp of the situation. All night he was too afraid to let his guard down, lest another ghost make a visit to Sam. He had a swelling, bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something big, something bad was going to happen, he didn't know when... He'd wanted to protect Sam. He'd wanted to keep her from his problems.

But now, he knew he'd failed in his efforts. Whatever was about to go down, Sam was going to be a big part of it.

He couldn't fail her, not now. Not like he had failed from keeping her out of this mess to begin with.

He shook himself out of his stupor, how long had be been staring at Sam's closed door?

-

**:AN: **Well, here you go. I am sorry for keeping you waiting! Updates are going to be somewhat sporadic in the future (just like they've always been!) because I am going to be starting college in about three weeks. It is going to be a major adjustment... Especially the roommate part. I prefer to do my writing in privacy. (Actually, I'm freakishly protective of it...)We'll see how that works out. Otherwise though, I've known the girl that's going to room with me for four years and we are really good friends... so hopefully things will go well and we won't kill each other like my father seems to believe.

And now for a change of subject...

Divagurl277, sorry again! And also, happy belated birthday!

And to all of my reviewers, thank you for your continued support!

**_EDIT!_**- Well, I'm officially just about the dumbest person... ever. Her name is Kitty, not "Kitten". So, utterly sorry for the confusion. Maybe things will make more sense now...

-

Love,

-

-DRC-

-


	12. Chapter Eleven

**:AN:** Note at the end!

**IMPORTANT EDIT NOTICE - SEE PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOR DETAILS! XD**

**Disclaimer: **Things I don't own include, but are not limited to Danny Phantom/ related characters (credited to Butch Hartman) and _Hate Me_ by Blue October.

-

**Title: **Spider's Web

-

**Chapter Eleven**

-

_An ounce of peace is all I want for you. Will you never call again?_

_And will you never say that you love me just to put it in my face?_

_And will you never try to reach me? It is I that wanted space_

_Blue October – Hate Me _

-

"I always wanted to be an astronaut," Danny said with a slight look of nostalgia. He tugged his red jacket to make it a little tighter. He took deep calming breaths. They turned white in contact with the freezing air and dissipated in the atmosphere.

Despite the cold temperature, Danny felt he was sweltering. It was his nerves. Like most of his decisions in life, this was very spur of the moment, but after last night he felt there was no avoiding it. Something was happening and Sam had clearly been dragged in the middle of it, just as he had. It was necessary that he be completely honest with her. Completely. He glanced at her swiftly from the corner of his eye.

Sam didn't respond, knowing Danny would surely elaborate. Besides, she didn't mind hearing about his childhood. Being with his family allowed her to pick up only bits and pieces. It would be interesting to learn... maybe it would shed some light on his big mystery.

"When I was younger, I mean," he continued. "It wasn't too long before I realized I didn't have the aptitude for science to get me the distance." He sighed and they both listened to the crunch of the salt beneath their feet on the scraped clean sidewalk. You could always count on the freakishly motivated kid to be... freakishly motivated. "But I did pick up a lot about ghost stuff, seeing as my parents are, well, paranormal scientists. So, yeah." He cleared his throat. How do you bring up something like genetic mutation in civilized conversation? How could he present it to her in a non-threatening way? A way that wouldn't... eh, threaten her?

Sam nodded slightly, acknowledging the fact that he'd spoken, not really understanding what his point was. They continued on in silence.

It was no longer snowing, but after the storm from the night before everything had been coated in a thick, white, blanket. Houses were shingled with icicles and the world's white coating glistened with what little sun they could pull through the doughy clouds above. It was a peaceful winter wonderland and it was like they were the only two people in the world. Everyone else, every sane person, was tucked safely in their warm homes with their fireplaces and heaters. Many of the houses exuded tell-tale plumes of smoke. The smoke itself was surreal in appearance; like wailing ghosts desperately, futilely, trying to escape their chimney prisons. Their smoky color contrasted greatly with the milky white clouds that blocked out the sky.

It looked like it would snow again later.

The silence grew too much for Sam as they neared the end of the block. It reminded her far too much of the night before, before Kitty had made her presence know. "You wanted me to tell you about... last night? Right?" She asked carefully.

"Y-yeah!" Danny replied loudly, just a little too eagerly. "I mean, yes... uh, so that ghost didn't, uh, well... you're okay, right?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded. "I mean, I'm tired and a little shaken, but otherwise I'm fine. Actually, that wasn't the first time I'd seen her, it, uh... the ghost. But then, there was another ghost too, one I hadn't seen before that really startled the crap out of me, but he just took off."

"I see," Danny replied thoughtfully, while expertly hiding a developing blush behind his high collar. He probably really freaked her out last night... "So you saw the other ghost before? How many times?"

"Well, 'seeing' isn't the best word," Sam replied, vaguely aware that they had crossed the street and were now walking on a very poorly shoveled sidewalk. "Last night was the first time she showed me her form. Before that it was always just a disembodied voice and an eerie feeling. For a while I just thought I was going insane, which might still be a possibility now that I think about it." Suddenly she turned to Danny, very urgently grabbing his arm. "I'm not insane, am I!" She demanded.

"No, of course not," Danny laughed. "In my book, we are all sane until proven otherwise. And seeing as I deal with this kind of stuff on an almost daily basis, your story doesn't seem that farfetched to me. Calm down!"

"Yeah, yeah, okay fine," she consented.

"So has the ghost ever told you why it was visiting you?" Danny asked.

"Umm, not specifically," Sam chewed lightly on her lower lip in thought. "It was always very ominous. She kept saying how she was preparing me for something. Honestly, it never seemed to me much like she was doing anything except annoying me, freaking me out... It's so weird, god, it's so weird!" She cried in exasperation.

Then Danny asked her something somewhat startling. "Did the ghost start seeing you before, or after you met me?"

"It was after," she replied. "Danny if you think you've got anything to do with this well, look... I mean, she mentioned you once or twice, but don't think that I, you know, well... God, what I mean to say is, you're my friend, okay? And right now that beats all."

Danny grinned into his jacket collar, staring at the ground. What she said just then meant the world to him. He felt better about his decision. He was going to tell Sam the truth, his biggest secret; he was going to tell her that he was half ghost. He was going to tell her about the lab accident. Everything. Well, maybe not about the dress incident... that could still be a secret. A weight lifted off his heart. He hadn't felt this light since... since Lancer hired him? No, he couldn't remember when he'd felt so right. "I'm glad you said that Sam." He glanced up the road. They would be coming to the park soon. He'd tell her in there, where they wouldn't be overheard.

Sam was thoroughly startled. Danny's smile made him look five years younger, like a proper twenty-one year old. She'd never noticed before how much older his face always looked till now, so young and fresh. His smile was infectious, contagious. For a moment she was just a girl walking with a boy (talking about ghosts) being otherwise normal, carefree... happy. Forgetting herself and everything it entailed, she clasped his gloved hand in her own. "Good," she said at long last.

Danny's grin grew, as did his anxiousness. He released her hand and raced a few steps ahead of her before turning around and crying, "Race you to the park, Sam!" Then taking off in said direction.

Sam stood stunned for a second. Did they just have a '_moment_'? Yes. Did Danny just _trash_ said 'moment' by starting a childish race? Yep. Was _she_ going to lose the race? Never! "Danny, you dork, I don't even know where the park is!" She cried with a laugh in her voice before charging after him as fast as she could.

-

Jazz was enjoying a second cup of coffee with her parents in the living room as they watched an old Christmas special on TV. It was nice, she decided, visiting her parents. Especially now that Danny was back in their lives. Everything seemed so much happier, jollier. Christmas was no longer hard to swallow, but to be gorged upon. Nothing could possibly ruin it. Maybe next year she'd even have a boyfriend to share it all with.

She sighed contently as she sank back into the plush couch, idly watching both the TV special and the happy glances that past between her parents. '_They're so happy_,' she thought to herself. '_I hope Danny realizes that he can't keep running away forever. Maybe this time he'll stay in our lives... Hopefully the gift mom and dad got for him will keep him coming_.' Her expression then hardened into that of a pissed off older sister. '_He'd better or I'm going to launch a hundred Danny-honed boomerangs at him_!' She grinned evilly at the thought of her ungrateful baby brother being smacked dozens of times by one their mother and father's stranger inventions.

The phone rang and Jack Fenton cried with enthusiasm, "Nobody get up, I've got it!" And he raced to the phone.

Jazz arched an eyebrow. That was odd. Normally, her father could care less about the phone. In fact, the only time he ever really cared about answering was when _he_ called...

Jazz paled. "Oh no," breathed, jumping to her feet.

"Is something wrong, sweetheart?"

Jazz turned to her mother, "Uh, no mom! Nothing's wrong, why would you think that?"

"Well, you just jumped to your feet like that and I thought... well never mind. Is there anything I can get for you?" Her mother inquired.

"No thanks," she replied, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. "My coffee just got cold, I'm going to go get a warm cup. Can I grab you one?"

"No thanks, dear," Maddie smiled.

"Okay," Jazz said, rushing into the kitchen where she knew her father was on the phone.

"No problem Vladdy! We're always happy to have you," said Jack Fenton unaware of his daughter's presence in the kitchen. "Nobody should have to spend Christmas alone!"

Jazz barely kept herself from dropping her coffee mug. Vlad was coming? Vlad was coming to her house? Vlad was coming to her house tomorrow? With Danny here? '_Oh god... not good! This is _**not good**! _I have to tell Danny!' _ Jazz wasn't entirely sure about what exactly went on between Vlad Masters and her little brother, but she was well aware that the man was bad news. He indulged enough upon her in the past to make it perfectly clear that the man was not to be trifled with. He was evil, rich, powerful, in love with their mother, and to top it all off -had the same abilities, and then some, as her brother.

"Yeah," her father continued after a moment, "It's going to be a big surprise, we haven't said a word to them yet... yeah, I bet they'll be excited."

Not wanting her father to think she had been listening in, Jazz acted as though she'd just walked into the kitchen, making noise with the coffee maker to alert her father that she was, in fact, there.

He looked up startled. "Uh, well, it was great to hear from you. Uh, look, can't talk now. Uh-huh. Yeah. See ya then!" He hastily hung up the phone. "What cha' up to, Jazzerincess?"

"Just getting some more coffee, dad," she replied as lightly as she good, tapping her mug for emphasis. "Hey, dad? You haven't seen Danny, right? I mean, he's still on his walk with Sam?"

"Yeah, I think so," he shrugged.

"Okay, thanks." With that, Jazz abandoned her newly filled mug and raced out of the kitchen and up stairs. Once in her room she began to hastily dress, throwing on a heavy coat before racing out the front door.

"Is something wrong with Jazz?" Maddie asked as Jack sat down next to her.

"Eh, you know those kids, it's _always _something," her husband shrugged. "Unless... you don't think it's ghosts, do you?"

-

The race between the two young adults soon escalated into an impromptu snowball fight... that started when Danny realized he was losing the race that he had initiated. Who knew Sam could run so fast?

The escapade ended with a little light hand-to-hand combat involving Sam (evoking a great strength that did not seem befitting to her petite frame) grabbing Danny's wrists and throwing him onto the snow covered ground. Unfortunately she hadn't counted on Danny pulling her down with him. They landed side by side with a splash of snow flurry and nearly insatiable laughter.

"I feel like I'm fourteen again," Sam murmured dreamily, blinking away the snow flakes that caught on her eyelashes.

"I know what you mean," Danny grinned. He turned on his side, supported by his elbow, to look at her. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold and the run, her chest rose and fell as she continued to catch her breath, a contented smile rested lightly on her lips, and her eyes were the brightest he'd ever seen them. He realized immediately that he would like nothing more than to kiss her, right there, lying on the ground, in the snow, in the middle of the park. But... no. He had to tell her. Before he did anything else, he had to tell her.

Sam noticed how Danny was staring at her, so intensely. A bubble of warmth developed in her stomach, and oh how she wanted nothing more than to just give in to her feelings, her hormones. If only she could give in to Danny and his tender gaze. But... no. It wouldn't be fair to him. As long as he didn't know her secret, she would be nothing but his friend. And being his friend was better than nothing, so her lips had to remain sealed.

But if he carried on looking at her like that something was bound to happen.

Sam sat up suddenly, shaking the snow loose from her hair. She looked seriously at Danny, fully prepared with a good way to halt the romantic vibes. "There's something else I didn't tell you about last night, Danny," she said, pulling Danny out of whatever stupor his mind seemed to be in.

He blinked, "What is it?"

"Well the ghost, Kitty, uh," she hesitated, she barely believed it had happened herself! "She did something strange. It was like she stopped time, but I know that's got to be impossible. The whole thing last night was so confusing, I don't even-"

"She stopped time?" Danny asked critically, suddenly giving her rapt attention. "Did you," he licked his cold-chapped lips as he readied himself to embark into shaky territory. "Did you have anything around your neck, maybe? Something she might have given you or-"

"Yeah!" Sam cried, "Yes I did! I remember; she told me to look out the window and I did and the snow was frozen in place mid-fall... And then I felt something heavy around my neck, it was a sort of medallion. I was going to take it off to get a better look at it, but Kitty stopped me."

Danny paled at this information. He knew of only one being with the ability to stop time and it just did not add up. "You told me earlier that the ghost, uh Kitty? She told you she was a messenger or something like that?"

Sam nodded.

Why? Why would Clockwork give Kitty the ability to stop time? Why would he send her to Sam? What the hell was going on! There was only one way to get to the bottom of this, and that was to question Clockwork face to face. But in the mean time, he had the perfect opening to shed light on Sam for a different matter. "Sam, look, we need to talk about something."

"Okay, sure," Sam replied shakily. "But can we get up first? My ass is f-freezing." A chill passed through her and her teeth chattered involuntarily.

"Yeah, sure," Danny jumped to his feet and reached a hand down to help her up. Soon they were walking side by side again, her hand still held by his own. "So, Sam, a while back something happened to me." He cleared his throat, knowing this confession would be anything but easy. "I don't tell people about it as a rule, my parents don't even know.. Tucker does though, and Jazz too. I want you to know too."

Sam nodded, hoping that whatever he was about to tell her had something to do with Danny's incident the day before.

"I was in this accident, you might remember Mr. Lancer mentioning it before, and-"

"Danny! Thank god I found you!" Jazz cried, causing the two to jump away from each other in shock. Danny's older sister cantered up to them, out of breath. "Danny, it's Vlad! He's coming! He's coming tomorrow! I just found out!"

Danny's first reaction was to look at Sam, horrified of Vlad knowing about her. What had he gotten her into? "GOD DAMNIT!" He cried angrily to the sky, falling to his knees and punching the ground with as much force as he could muster. Tears pricked his eyes, and he wished and wanted so badly to be normal; to not be a constant danger to his family and everyone else he cared about. He was failing, he was failing to protect Sam and he couldn't... if Vlad got to her... Dear god, what had he gotten her into?

Sam and Jazz were frozen in place as they watched Danny's heart wrenching reaction. Sam in particular was taken aback by the scene. Danny had been on the cusp of telling her a major secret and then Jazz appeared. Who was Vlad exactly, she wondered. And as she stared at Danny, crouched from on the ground, she wondered just how much she did know about the boy... how one little mention of a name could just tear at him like that. But the most disturbing, unnerving, unsettling thing about the entire episode was the deathly frightened look he'd given her just before falling to his knees.

He was afraid for her.

-

**:AN: **I haven't given you guys any real insight on me lately. I'm feeling great, better than I have been in a long time. All the crap that was going on a few months ago as finally loosened it's grip on me. Yay!

I'm very sorry about how short this chapter is... over a thousand words shorter than my norm... However, in my defense, I think I found the perfect stopping point and if I continued it would take away from the over all effect. And besides, I updated it nice and fast! (If you can possibly consider two weeks fast...) Having said that, I move into my dorm tomorrow and at least for the first few days I doubt I'll have any time to get on or even write for that matter. (Another reason for the shortness, and possibly the speed in which this was delivered.)

Okay, I've gone on long enough.

-

Love,

-

-DRC-


	13. Chapter Twelve

**::AN::** Attention Readers! Please read the Author's Note at the end of the chapter for an amazing(ish) opportunity!!!

**Disclaimer: **Things I don't own include, but are not limited to Danny Phantom/ related characters (credited to Butch Hartman) and Hate Me by Blue October.

-

**Title: **Spider's Web

-

**Chapter Twelve**

-

_I'm sober now for three whole months, it's one accomplishment that you helped me with._

_The one thing that always tore us apart is the one thing I won't touch again._

_In my sick way I want to thank you for holding my head up late at night_

_While I was busy waging wars on myself, you were trying to stop the fight._

_Blue October – Hate Me_

_-_

The scene was simple; a father and a daughter sharing a quite Christmas morning together. The apartment, although in an upper crust high-rise, was sparsely furnished. The few decorative touches around were pictures of the beloved daughter, sometimes including the father in a different, happier time in his life. His life before the accident.

"Here you go, Dad," said Valerie as she handed a simple box in red wrapping paper to her father.

The crippled man smiled gratefully at his daughter as he accepted it. "You didn't have to," he told her bashfully.

"Don't be ridiculous," she grinned, "What kind of daughter would I be if I didn't get my father anything for Christmas? Besides, my cushy new job gave me quite the pay raise." She tenderly put her hand on his leg as sign of reassurance, trying hard to ignore, or at least accept the fact that it ended just after the knee. She smiled a little bit harder.

Damion Grey sighed and shook his head. "I know you've got the new job and all, but it would still make me feel better if you'd let me help you. I still haven't forgiven myself for forcing you to drop out of college. I can afford to send you back now, you know. You were doing so well..."

"Dad stop," his daughter sternly chastised. "You didn't force me to drop out of school, I dropped out on my own accord. How many times do we have to go over this? Besides, I'm not the same girl I was two years ago. My life is taking me in a different direction. It wouldn't be the same."

"Every direction in life can involve college if you want it to!" he argued.

Valerie rose from her seat next to her father's wheelchair and crossed the room to look out the window. It was snowing outside and the view was obstructed, but there wasn't much to see out there anyway. The endless white was more pleasant than the buildings and the dirty, crime wrought street. She sighed. "I know that's what you've always dreamed for me, but that's not who I am anymore. That's not my life anymore. I can't just sit in a classroom all day, I can't waste away doing those assignments, writing those essays... worrying about things I really couldn't care less about. I want to_ live_ my life, Dad, not learn about it!" She turned to her father gaging his reaction.

His face was hard, but he softened when he met her eyes. "Let's not talk about this now," he said. "Let's just enjoy each other's company, it is Christmas after all." He cracked a smile and wheeled himself up to her, "Besides, I was really looking forward to that home cooked breakfast you promised me."

Valerie smiled and leaned over to kiss her father on the cheek. He was right after all, and the last thing she wanted to do was upset him. "Okay Dad," she said. "How does French toast sound?"

-

The Foley household was full of warmth. Mrs. Foley served up a giant breakfast of t-bone steaks, eggs, and gravy doused biscuits. Her men could eat and she had no qualms feeding them. Her only child smiled up at her and she dotingly kissed the top of his head. He really didn't visit enough, granted he was a busy business man. He really took after his parents in that respect; both of them held very demanding jobs.

"So I was thinking," his mother said as they neared the end of their meal, "Why don't we invite the Fentons over for our New Year's Eve party? We haven't seen them in such a long time and now that Danny's home we have the perfect excuse!"

"Hey, yeah," Tucker agreed, "That's a great idea. I'll give them a call a little later. I wonder if Sam will be sticking around until then?"

"I hope so," Mrs. Foley said. "I'd really like to meet this girl. You said she saved Danny life, didn't you?"

"That's right," Tucker confirmed in the middle of swallowing a bite of egg.

"I just find that so interesting," she continued, lost in a train of thought. "Really though, it's not everyday you find someone who'll just take in a bum off the streets. I wonder what she was thinking at the time."

"Mom, one thing," Tucker said, nearly choking on his food. "Before I call them, you have to promise me you won't psychoanalyze Sam." That probably wouldn't go over so well with her...

"I wouldn't do that!" the older woman responded with an indignant tone. "I'm very tactful, thank you very much. Isn't that right dear?" She nudged her husband lightly, demanding a response from him.

"Listen to your mother," Tucker's father replied automatically, not looking up from his magazine periodical. They were always getting into little random spats like that, no need to do something like get involved or pay attention.

Tucker groaned. He was a successful business man with a high rise condo! He'd be twenty two in less than seven months! So why did it feel like he was a freshman in high school again? "Just promise me," he begged.

"Alright, fine," she conceded. "I promise I won't psychoanalyze Danny's little girlfriend."

"Or refer to her as 'Danny's little girlfriend'," Tucker amended quickly.

With an over exaggerated sigh and a roll of the eyes she continued, "Or refer to her as 'Danny's little girlfriend'. Happy now Tucky?"

He fought back a cringe at this old nickname and nodded, "Yes... but just _one_ more little thing..."

-

The tension was uncomfortable, to say the absolute, minimalist least. There was an antique clock on the wall that ticked in a deafeningly loud rhythm. Sam sat still on top of her hands on the living room couch and glanced around the room, then back at the clock. It had been approximately eleven minutes since the infamous Vlad Masters arrived at the Fenton household, much to the "surprise" of everyone, and amazingly, only two and a half minutes since Mr. And Mrs. Fenton left the room to fetch some things (what those things were and their relevance to the arrival of the imposing older man was much forgotten by Sam).

Danny's eyes were cold and calculating, never leaving Vlad's form for a second. He was so entirely tense that his breath came out with a quiet harshness and his knuckles were a bloodless white. It was a primal, animalistic look to him, Sam decided. She wouldn't have been surprised if he started to growl at the man who had invaded his territory.

Jazz was a different story. She sat nervously next to Sam, straight as a rod, wringing her hands in her lap, and nibbling lightly on her lower lip. Her eyes darted from Danny to Vlad, pausing once to offer Sam a weak, forced smile.

Vlad himself was calm and collected. He smiled easily at Sam, which in turn gave her a queasy, sick, all too frightening feeling in the pit of her stomach. He leaned back in the easy chair Jack had directed him to not more than a few minutes before, and looked as though he was perfectly at home.

Sam took a deep breath to calm herself down. Spazzing out wouldn't help her or anyone else. She didn't know anything about this man, save for the very limited, most likely glossed over details she'd been fed the day before.

She tucked her hair behind her ear. Yesterday had been among the strangest days of her life.

-

After Danny's startling episode in the park, Jazz had quickly ushered them back to the house and into Jazz's bedroom, not before pausing for a moment to tell the older Fentons that they were going to be playing a board game upstairs, to alleviate their possible suspicion. They sat her down on the pink comforter of Jazz's bed.

Danny paced, rubbing and pulling at his hair, until Jazz forced him to sit down in her desk chair. It was then she turned to the girl. "I don't know what to do," she said finally, seriously. She said it as though Sam had asked her the same question a thousand times and this was the thousandth time she had replied.

Then Jazz turned to Danny. "Danny, I don't know what to do. You are the only one who really knows his character, I have to go off of speculation and whatever you decide to tell me, which, by the way, isn't much."

"I know, I know," he moaned. "God I'm such an idiot."

Sam had finally had enough. "Will someone please just tell me what the hell is going on here?!"

Danny and Jazz both looked at her, horror-stricken (more so Danny than Jazz) as though they only just now realized she was there. However, she was ignored.

Jazz sat herself cross-legged on the floor near Danny's chair. "Do you think we should send her home?" She asked him earnestly.

Danny thought about it for a moment, sparing the girl in question a glance before returning focus to his sister. "I- No. Mom and dad will mention it to him, it will cause her more problems than not if she goes home. I think I'd feel better if she stayed were I could keep an eye on her."

Jazz nodded thoughtfully.

Sam paled. Psychos; clearly, _clearly_ she was in a room full of psychos. "You know what? Maybe I'd _like_ to go home, did you think of that? Maybe I _don't_ want to stay here, has that occurred to _either_ of you?!"

Jazz swiftly got up and crouched in front of Sam. "Look Sam, I know this doesn't exactly look very good to you right now. I realize that we are probably frightening you and you have no idea what's going on, but please, please... All we ask is that you have a little faith in us. That's all."

Faith. Why was it everyone wanted Sam's blind faith? The simple request had such a high demand behind it. It was so hard to be faithful. It was too hard.

But still, Sam sighed in consent. She'd stay for now, but not because of Jazz's speech and not because she had faith. Sam stayed because of Danny. He looked so torn and downtrodden, so helpless. The pleading look in his eyes said more than enough to convince her to stay; that made her want to take him in her arms. But she stayed seated, asking him silently for the truth.

Danny sighed deeply and hung his head. He focused his gaze on his hands which rested hopelessly in his lap. "Jazz, something is happening. I don't know what it is and I don't know why it is, but something is definitely happening. And I only know two things for sure; I know that whatever is going on is big, most likely bad, and I know that Sam is somehow involved."

"But wait... how? I mean... what?" Jazz struggled to find the right words; a gift that usually came easily to her. How could Sam be involved? What was going on? She looked frantically between Danny and Sam.

Danny's tired gaze turned to Sam. "I have reason to believe that Sam is being haunted by a ghost employed by Clockwork and I also believe this somehow ties into me. And, if only because of bias, I think Vlad is probably involved in this too."

"Danny," Sam rose from her seat. "Danny it is painfully obvious that you aren't telling me something." Enough was enough; questions needed to be answered now. "I'm sick of being left in the dark! So many things don't add up and if you don't tell me what's going on right now I have to leave." She glared down at him, feeling awful about it, but also thoroughly justified. She had no clue what was going on, but both Jazz and Danny were so upset by something and all she had was poor speculation. If her safety was in question -worse, if her life was in question, then she had every right to know what the hell was happening!

Danny sighed and hung his head again. "Jazz?" he asked weakly. "Will you maybe give us a minute?"

Jazz rose quickly and rested a hand lightly on her brother's shoulder. "Yeah, sure." She paused at the door, sparing her brother a last comforting glance. "I'll be in your room if you need me." Then she looked at Sam and was about to say something before thinking better of it and shutting the door softly behind her.

Just like that Danny and Sam were alone. The silence between them was deafening and the weight of the secret hung heavily in the atmosphere. Danny slid out of his chair and on to the floor, where he promptly stretched out on his back. "You know," he began after a moment, an ironic, harsh smile on his face, "I would like nothing more that to just curl up into a little ball and hide under Jazz's bed until this whole thing blows over." He looked up at Sam, who was still towering over him looking lost and helpless. He sighed and sat up, patting the ground in front of him as a gesture for Sam to take a seat.

Sam barely registered what she was doing, but found her self eye to eye with Danny.

"Sam I really want to apologize to you," he said sincerely. "This whole mess, every weird thing that has happened to you since you met me is all my fault. Things are going to get worse and I want you to know that I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"Danny, stop, I'm so confused. What is going to happen, exactly? Is some freak going to break into my apartment and murder me in my sleep? I'm I going to be haunted even more than I already am? What exactly am I dealing with here?!"

He sighed again. "Most likely you will be forced to deal with some hostile ghosts... to put it lightly. But right now, the less you know the better. Vlad Masters is a dangerous man and he really, really doesn't like me. My parents don't know anything about it and at the moment I'd like to keep it that way... He wouldn't do anything to them right now anyway; too easy for his cover to be blown. For now I'm just going to have to leave it at that."

"But what does this have to do with me?" Sam demanded.

"There are people, and I use the term "people" very loosely, that do not like me." Danny explained. "In fact I could even go so far as to say that some pretty much hate me. Now, because of that, and the fact that they can, at times, be quite sadistic... well, Vlad can at least... Uh, Anyway, everyone that gets close to me or anyone that I care about is pretty much in perpetual danger."

"Shit."

"Basically."

"What did you do to get on this guy's bad side?"

Danny cracked his back and stretched his arms. "He had this whole vision of me being the son he never had. When he came to me and wanted me to become his ward... or something like that, I told him I already had a father and he should look into getting some therapy, or maybe a cat. He didn't take it so well and he's been trying to manipulate me into "joining him" ever since." He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. "The last time I saw him was on your birthday, while we were at the club."

Sam paled. "What?"

"Yeah," Danny laughed shakily. "Imagine my horror after having him threaten my life, then find you like... well... let's just say that night was a real eye opener for me. I made a decision then and it might not have been the best course of action."

"What did you decide?" Sam asked, finding herself drawn to his every, almost unbelievable, word.

"I decided that any sort of relationship with you, you know, being friends with you," he cleared his throat and continued, "Would be dangerous, especially if he found out... I decided that I would jeopardize your safety so I could continue to be your friend. I told myself that I could protect you if I had to and now it looks like I'll be finding out soon."

Sam sat in silence as she took it all in. Danny had drawn her into a possible life-or-death situation. He was breaking a personal rule to befriend her. Something horrible to happen to all of them, but... "Didn't you say he wouldn't do anything to blow his cover? Maybe nothing is going to happen."

"Maybe," Danny consented half-heartedly. "But that's the thing, all these years I think he's just been biding his time. He's planning something, I know that much. I just don't know why you were drawn into things so much. That ghost that has been visiting you has ties to another one, Clockwork. He's probably the powerful ghost there is. He has power over time and space. He's the reason that Kitty was able to stop time last night. He's not malicious or anything, you don't have to worry about him hurting you... but the fact that he's showing you interest just bothers me. If he's involved in this whole mess, something huge is about to happen. He doesn't interfere unless he absolutely has to.

"Look Sam, I completely understand if you think I'm psychotic and just making this stuff up. You don't ever have to waste your time with me again after tomorrow. I'm going to make sure nothing happens to you, okay? Just remember that, okay?"

"Danny... I believe you." She choked out. "Don't ask me why because this is completely insane, but I believe you. I just want to know why you would take such a big risk..."

"I dunno," Danny scooted over and rested against the bed, Sam did the same. "I guess it's just... I've never met anyone like you before. You're such a good, honest person and being around you is... I mean, I don't have many friends; you and Tucker are pretty much it. I don't let myself get close to people as a rule, but you kinda just bypassed all of my defenses and the next thing I knew I was begging you to come home with me for Christmas." He smiled slightly.

Sam's heart clenched as he mentioned her supposed good merits. She wasn't a "good, honest person", she had been keeping something from him since they met. She was no better than a whore and he thought... and he was risking so much...

And it was all on a lie.

Maybe if she had been honest with him from the beginning, maybe things would be different now.

Danny continued. "Look, I'll tell you the whole story after Vlad is gone. You deserve to know what you've been pulled into. ...I was about to tell you everything when we were in the park, actually."

"I understand..." she said after a moment, "Don't worry about it."

He sighed in relief and genuinely said, "Thank you, so much."

Sam rose, "I think I'm going to go give Lydia a call."

"Wait..!"

"Danny, don't worry. Lydia is my best friend, but that doesn't mean that I can tell her your secrets. I'm just calling her to make sure she remembered to check on Lilith for me."

Sam didn't leave the guest room for quite a while. At one point, Danny took the initiative to go and check on her, only to find her asleep on top of the covers. She was curled into a ball, probably because of the cold. He smiled at her tenderly, deciding that he would cover her up.

Silently, he made his way to her side and made the layers of blankets go intangible around Sam's form. As he tucked her in, he noticed that she had a tissue tightly clutched in one hand and her black eye makeup was slightly smeared. Where before delicate snowflakes and clung, the remnant of tear drops now lingered in her lashes. Her face did not look peaceful, but instead bore the scar of a nightmare.

He backed away, then rushed out of her room into the sanctity of his own which was, unfortunately, behind the wall adjoining to hers. He sat on his bed in the dark. It was only mid afternoon, but the sun always set so early in the winter and the clouds kept the little light there was from shining down on his home.

Strange shadows cast about his room taking eerie, yet familiar shapes of things salvaged from his childhood. They had not touched his room, like some parents do after their children leave, but rather left it perfectly intact so as to preserve him. Or rather, what he was. No longer did he harbor the great desire to become and astronaut, and yet a model dangled from his ceiling and a poster of a launch clung to his wall. All around him were dead dreams in a dusty room that didn't feel like home anymore. And he sat there cold, alone, and in the dark.

But what had be been expecting? Everything was a charade; he marched around in his pretend world in which things always work out in the end. Where was reality? Where was the fact that he hurt everyone he cared for most by doing nothing else but existing?

Where was Sam and her best interest? What had he been thinking? Had he honestly thought that she'd take all the threats in stride? Had he honestly thought that she'd happily stand by his side in face of all the danger?

Of course she'd be frightened. Of course she'd cry. Of course she'd hurt.

But he just didn't want to see that, did he?

-

Danny's parents reentered the room, and Danny forced himself to look visibly relaxed. It took a great deal of effort.

Maddie Fenton handed Vlad a small china cup of tea, which he thanked her for most heartily, before taking a seat on the sofa next to her husband. The three older people in the room all smiled pleasantly, completely and blatantly unaware of the tension shifting between the younger set.

"So," Vlad began conversationally, comfortable as though he was the king of small talk. "Samantha Manson was it?"

She nodded dumbly, unable to remember how to "act naturally".

He studied her face and smiled what could have been considered a pleasing smile. But coming from him it had the opposite effect. "Yes, I do believe I know your father. You bare a striking resemblance to him, I must say."

"What?" She choked, her eyes widening in shock, fear, horror... The details Danny had given her drifted through her mind, teasing her.

Danny, in turn, fought the desperate urge to rip the man's throat out. He had already one-uped them. He already knew about Sam. Things were worse than he thought.

"Well," Jack Fenton boomed, "Isn't this a small world?"

"I don't believe you've mentioned your parents yet, Sam," Maddie smiled. "How do you know him, Vlad?"

"We are business partners actually," he casually replied. "He is the CEO of Axion Industries, which, as you know, I now own. He's a decent fellow, I imagine that he and I will become good friends in the course of our working together."

Every member of the Fenton family looked at Sam with a mixture of shock and awe. Jasmine was the first to break from the stupor and speak. "Your father is the CEO of Axion Industries?" she asked incredulously.

Sam's face immediately flushed as all attention focused on her. "Yes," she replied meekly with a slight nod. It never occurred to her to deny it. She might have imagined it, but she noticed Vlad's smile widen with a sort of sick pleasure at the sight of her discomfort.

Danny looked swiftly from Sam to Vlad. Things just kept getting worse and worse...

-

**::AN::** Okay, so this looks like a good stopping point for the chapter...

I am happy to report that I have a whole folder full of reasonable excuses as to the month and a half delay in updating... Basically, I was adjusting to college life and dealing with crappy computer problems (ie. My computer shutting off on me randomly, or just not turning on... it's a reasonably new computer too!). Anyway, that's the gist of it.

I hope this chapter was worth the wait, even though it is arguably just a filler... eh, well, at least you can see the budding of the real plot starting to mold... It only took me, what? Just over a hundred pages to get there?

_**And now for the aforementioned Amazing(ish) Opportunity!!! **_

For those of you interested, I am looking for a collaborative partner (a fancy title for an editor) to help me edit my previous chapters and help point out any inconsistencies I might have over looked in the course of writing them (and I know there are many of them). It's a big project with no real deadline.

If you are interested, please inform me via email (you can find my address on in my profile) and please put "Amazingish Opportunity" as your subject... just so I know ahead of time what the email is about.

Thank you so much!

-DRC-


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**::AN::** Check out my blurb at the end of the chapter, if you please.

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Danny Phantom or Emily Dickinson's poem.

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**Title: **Spider's Web

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**Chapter Thirteen**

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_I cannot live with you,_

_That would be life_

_And life is over there_

_Behind the shelf _

-

The atmosphere of the room itself was warm and cheery; covered in reds and greens. Everything smelled of cinnamon and fudge. A tree set off to the side, near the fireplace, was neatly decorated in in a wide assortment of ornaments. Among the delicate, colorful orbs hung older, handmade treasures; things Jazz and Danny might have made when they were younger. One of which appeared to be a Popsicle stick painted in red and white that may or may not have been the artistic rendition of Santa Claus as seen by a five year old with a very restricted medium.

And it was in here they sat. Vlad in the leather easy chair in front of the snow-frosted window, Danny seated close by in another armchair, his parents on the love seat next to that, and Sam and Jazz sitting on the sofa separated from the others by a coffee table that bisected the room. And while two of the room's inhabitants were perfectly unaware of it, the tension over-compensated for the very comfortable surroundings.

"Oh my," Mrs. Fenton said. "That's incredible! We actually owe your father a lot, Sam. That is amazing, it really is such a small world. Isn't it honey?" She turned to her husband. "Just like you said, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it is," he said with a big grin, rubbing the back of his neck.

Even in her distress, a thought occurred to Sam that Danny must have inherited that habit from his father. Then she turned to Vlad, her curiosity peaking. After all, she'd had absolutely no contact with her father in three years. "Did he, I mean... did my dad... did he mention me at all?"

That question struck a cord in all persons present.

In Danny, it was a melancholy curiosity. He'd never really had the chance to talk to her about her life before she ran away. He had been so consumed with everything going on in _his_ life that he hadn't even bothered to wonder about it, not since his met Lydia. They never brought up the subject of their families... it always just seemed to crash into them out of nowhere.

Jazz clicked her tongue and sighed. She saw the hope and apprehension in Sam's wide eyes. It was a pity, it really was, that she had to ask that monster for a bit of information about her own father, that she was so desperate for it. Over taken with sympathy, she only barely restrained herself from placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Jazz didn't think she would take the attention well.

Jack and Maddie Fenton kept quiet. Suddenly it was a little clearer why Sam had never mentioned her parents, why she wasn't with them this time of year. Just the way she asked the question spoke volumes. How long had it been since she had last seen her father? Her mother? They looked at Vlad expectantly and wondered if the man had indeed mentioned his daughter.

Vlad's smile curled and his eyes lit with delight. "Why," he said smoothly, "He did, actually."

"Oh," Sam replied with a breathless quality. She then realized how she had responded, how she had been acting. Until this moment, she had never registered just how much she actually missed her parents. Being surrounded by this happy family had made her, on some level, long for her own. Vlad's mention of her father had not helped the situation at all. But... but this was nothing to get worked up about. It would only lead to a downpour of questions she did not feel like answering. So she composed herself and calmly asked, "What did he say?"

"Oh well," the devious man said off-handedly, "During the course of our many meetings you naturally came into the conversation I asked him if he was a family man and he said 'yes', he had a daughter living in the city and he hadn't had much contact with her the past few years." Vlad gaged her reaction and gave her a meaningful look. "He said he was very proud of you."

And Sam struggled to keep her composure.

Internally, Vlad was in raptures. How easy it would be to manipulate things into his favor! He had not accounted for the fact that Samantha Manson would have a sense of homesickness. This was almost too good to be true.

Danny was torn up inside. Vlad had already latched his teeth into Sam. There was no turning back now. The girl was in way too deep. At the moment, all eyes were turned to her and he could tell it was making her nervous, more nervous at any rate. She was fidgeting and couldn't decide where to direct her focus; her eyes darted all over the room before finally resting on him. She silently begged him for help, which he eagerly provided. "So," he began loudly, bringing all attention to him, "Uhhh.." But sadly, he had not thought his plan through at all... "How about those Packers?"

Sam snorted, but cleverly disguised it as a cough in response to Danny's lame attempt at a diversion. Oh well, at least no one was staring at her anymore. She smiled gratefully at him. He thanked her in turn with a wry smile of his own.

"The Packers are doing quite well, thank you," Vlad replied with an amused glint to his voice. And then he launched into another topic entirely. "So Daniel, I hear you have found yourself a job. Tell me, how do you like working for the Spiritual Weekly?" He folded his hands neatly in his lap and leaned in slightly to show interest.

"Work is... going well," he cleared his throat. Talking about his interaction with ghosts was generally something he avoided around his parents. As a rule.

"Yes, and we are all _very_ proud of him," his mother smiled, happy to have a new bragging right.

"I've seen some of your pictures," Vlad continued, throwing Maddie Fenton a nod in agreement. "They are really quite good. I wonder, where do you come across such images?"

"Oh, you know..." his voice cracked under the pressure and he cleared his throat again. Immediately his hand went to the back of his neck. "H-here and there."

"Ghosts," Jazz began somewhat awkwardly, "You know... they probably are just attracted to Danny because of all the exposure he's had to ectoplasm from, you know, the lab and everything."

"Y-yeah," he eagerly seconded. "That's probably it. Pretty lucky, if you ask me." He forced a light chuckle.

"Well, Danny," his father said, "As long as you be careful. Ghosts are tricky things. Just when you think you've got them figured out, they do something completely unexpected, like... like that one time when... well... anyway, just be careful around 'em, got it?"

"Yeah, sure thing Dad," Danny replied. "I always keep a Fenton Thermos with me, just in case."

" 'Atta boy, Danny!" His father cheered. "Just a chip off the ol' block!"

"You _know_," his mother said with a knowing inclination to her voice, a tone only a mother could produce. "_I_ think it's about time we opened some... Christmas presents!"

"Oh, yeah!" Jack agreed heartily. "Yes, lets do that!"

And with that, everyone's attention immediately turned towards the tree that Maddie Fenton had risen and walked to. She knelt down and produced the first present, "Sam," she said. "I know you don't celebrate, but we didn't want you to feel left out." She handed the gift to the girl. "Now, it's nothing special, I didn't really know what you'd like, but you might enjoy it anyway."

"Oh you really didn't have to," Sam replied as she tentatively took the gift. It was already so awkward. They had invited her to stay in their home without even knowing her before hand and now they were giving her a present when she had absolutely nothing for them!

"Oh, but we wanted to! Now, again, it's nothing special... I snuck out yesterday while you kids were hanging out up in Jazz's room. Unfortunately there weren't that many stores open..." she explained. "So I'm sorry if-"

"I'm sure I'll love it," Sam assured her, smiling. "I'm just sorry because I never brought you anything."

"That's not true," Maddie's eyes lit up as she smiled at her son, "Is it Danny?" She looked at Sam again, "Well, go on and open it! You've been given the honor of going first!"

Sam smiled gratefully at her friend's mother as she peeled the tape off the sides of the silver wrapping paper. Soon she found herself holding an older book, it's worn cover read '_Wessex Poems and Other Verses_ by Thomas Hardy'. "Oh wow," Sam murmured as she skimmed the cover with her fingertips. She opened the book to a random page and read a few lines before closing it and smiling at Mrs. Fenton, "This is really great, thank you so much!"

"Oh, I'm just glad you liked it!" She beamed.

Soon, everyone and gone through their gifts. Jazz received a few new sweaters, a movie, and a couple gift cards, Vlad received an assortment of Maddie Fenton's baked goods (as they had no idea what else the multimillionaire would not have), Jack and Maddie got just a few trinkets between themselves as they had strictly told Jazz (and would have told Danny) not to get them anything, Danny had gotten a new winter coat and his own assortment of gift cards.

Danny bashfully explained to those present that he hadn't had the opportunity to get them anything and, though he was assured that it was perfectly alright, he promised more than once that he would make it up to all of them.

As the present-opening wound down, Jack and Maddie got to their feet and smiled knowingly at each other. "There is actually just one more thing left," they informed the group. "If everyone will just follow us to the garage..."

When they reached their destination, Danny was asked to turn on the lights and he did so.

And there, sitting there untouched was probably just about the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen... on wheels.

"I realize that given the weather it's pretty impractical," his mother shrugged as she sidled up beside him and rested an arm around his shoulders. "But this is what happens when your father is sent out -_unsupervised_- to get you a _car_."

"But this is so much cooler!" His father argued pointing at it enthusiastically.

"That's mine?!" Danny exclaimed as he too pointed at the brand new blue and white Suzuki motorcycle.

His beaming parents nodded.

"Mine?!" he asked again. He stepped forward, hands fanned out, ready to touch it, but afraid doing so would wake him up from this wonderful dream. He looked back at them, "Really?"

They nodded again.

"But how, I mean, it's amazing, but how could you guys afford it? I mean..."

"Thats another thing we wanted to talk to you kids about," Jack Fenton cleared his throat. "Your mother and I have a new job, all thanks to Vladdy here. We are now doing research and development in the Axion Labs Spectral Defense Department! With the new salary and the great Christmas bonus -thanks again Vladdy- we wanted to do something nice for you, son."

"It was so hard for us to make you leave school," His mother continued, "and, we know this doesn't even begin to make up for it... but we thought you might be able to make use of it."

"I might," he squeaked, very ready to just jump on board and take off down the street.

"Now, you can't go riding it until after you get your motorcyclist license, but that shouldn't take too long," his mother said.

"O-oh, right," he said, his excitement starting to wane at the realization. He looked longingly at the bike. "I can wait." ...'_Maybe_.'

The rest of the day continued in good spirits, or as good as could be excepted when an arch enemy was sharing Christmas dinner with you. It became a sort of game between Vlad and Danny. Vlad would dangle Danny's secret in front of his parents via a clever assortment of questions and Danny would do his best to dodge the bullet by supplying the assortment of vague replies he'd collected over the years. The game only paused when Tucker Foley had called with an invitation to a New Years Eve party. It was a welcomed distraction and the invitation was eagerly accepted.

It eventually dawned on Danny that his parents now worked for Vlad. This, to put it simply, was bad news.

Even if it did yield the most awesome bike ever created… this was entirely aside from the point.

The important thing was that now not only was Sam pulled into the mess, but his parents had dug themselves further into an already fairly deep hole. As if Vlad's startling obsession with his mother and deep seeded hatred of his father wasn't enough, he was now employing them to make weapons.

Weapons that would ultimately be aimed at their son... possibly even them, if he tweaked them a bit.

Later that evening, Vlad finally made his much anticipated departure. He said he needed to be back in Wisconsin by ten the next morning for work. He claimed he had a private helicopter waiting for him at a private airport. He claimed he had a wonderful time and that they would "do this again sometime".

After he zoomed off in his limo and the elder Fentons retired, Danny, Jazz, and Sam congregated in Danny's bedroom. All three were completely wired with the shear joy that Vlad was no longer present in the house. They had barely spoken amongst each other all day, and now there was much to be said.

The only problem was that no one was saying anything.

"This is," Sam said at last, choosing her words carefully, "just… twisted."

"Putting it lightly," Jazz remarked. Her face was somewhat drawn and she was more pale than usual, almost near Sam's level of fairness.

Everyone looked drained. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts. Danny looked the worst, him having the hero complex and all. He ran a hand down his face and looked at his sister and Sam. This shouldn't be on their shoulders. This was his problem, his!

He looked at the clock, it was almost midnight.

He needed answers. He needed them now. He couldn't wait anymore.

"I think we should all go to bed," he sighed. "It's been a long day and we all have a lot on our minds. We can talk it out in the morning."

"Maybe you're right," Jazz relented. "After all, so much stress can't be good for us. A night's sleep would do us a lot of good."

Sam held her head in her hands. "I honestly don't think I could. This is just too much! I don't even know the full situation here! I can't… I just…" So much stress, too much stress. It embodied itself in tears. They welled in her eyes.

Danny was by her side in a second. He took her hand. "Sam, I promise I'll tell you everything tomorrow. You gotta try and sleep, okay?"

Sam took a deep breath and looked at him. "I can't, it just… there's too much…"

"Sleeping pills!" Jazz said suddenly. "I think we've got some Tylenol PM around her somewhere. That should give you a good night's sleep. What do you say?"

Sam brought a hand to her forehead, it was warm with a headache. Sleep sounded so good right now, and at the same time it was the last thing she wanted. She had hoped for answers, but then there was always tomorrow. At last, she nodded, "Okay, sure."

"Good," Jazz smiled kindly. "I think maybe we should all take some, you know? Sleep in a little tomorrow and then just figure everything out logically… it's a good idea."

Danny nodded, agreeing. The sooner those two got to bed, the better.

He had a lot of work to do tonight.

-

Valerie picked half-heartedly at her TV dinner. She was curled up on the couch, covered by a throw blanket watching _It's A Wonderful Life_. The room was dark, save for the television that flickered and glowed.

She sneered at the happy ending. "Yeah right," she muttered.

Who was watching out for her father in that explosion? Who was watching out for her every time she lost a job or fought that stupid ghost? Who was watching out for her mother when…?

God, it was just a Christmas movie. It didn't mean anything. She rolled her eyes at herself for getting so worked up and flipped on the light by the side of the couch.

The sight of the happy, singing group of people quickly left the screen, replaced with a heartless, dark grey.

She thrust the meal, if you could call the cold, hard chicken fried steak and powdery mashed potatoes a meal, aside and stretched.

Her cell phone, forgotten in her pocket, began to vibrate violently. She jumped in surprise, crying out. She clamped a hand over her mouth and looked swiftly to her father's bedroom door. He was sleeping, hopefully she hadn't woken him.

He wasn't feeling well, which was why he was in bed at seven pm on Christmas, and why Valerie had to watch Christmas movies and eat her TV dinner alone.

She looked at the screen, "Tucker F" it read. Tucker… Tucker… Where did she know him from, again? Right! The club! She flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Hey Valerie!" the enthusiastic voice replied. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but-"

"I remember you," she grinned. "Don't worry. You were the disgruntled dress guy."

He paused, digesting the nickname.

Valerie smirked.

"Well… at least you remember me." He cleared his throat.

"So what can I do for you, disgruntled dress guy? Or should I just call you DDG for short?"

"Has anyone ever commended you for your comedic genius?" he griped, voice tinged with humor.

"Oh, constantly," Valerie smiled.

"Anyway though, I, um," he cleared his throat again. "Well, my family is hosting this New Year's Eve thing and I, well, um… I think Sam is going to be there and… and Danny too! He was at the club when we… Uh, well… Anyway, I was wondering if you'd possibly like to go?"

"I…" Valerie did not know what to say. She did not have plans on New Year's Eve, because that generally required having friends, which she had very little time for. "Well… I mean, where is it?"

"Right! Oh, right! Amity Park, it's maybe twenty minutes out of-"

"I know where it is," Valerie cut him off. "I grew up near there."

"…So you'll come?"

Valerie plopped down on the couch, smiling brightly. She twisted the blanket through her fingers. "Yeah, I think I will."

When she finally hung up the phone, about an hour later, she wanted to smack herself for being so giddy. It was like high school or something. Completely ridiculous.

But no matter how much she berated herself, she just couldn't wipe that stupid grin off her face.

-

Danny stood, because he felt it made him look more imposing, impassable, solid, than hovering with that bob. His mouth was drawn into a calculated frown and his eyes were meticulously hard. He stared down Clockwork. He was a miserly looking, old and withered figure. He could be Death himself what with his hooded cloak and blood red eyes.

"Dan, or, excuse me, Danny," Clockwork said, "What you are asking is… complicated."

"I don't care if it's complicated," Danny argued. "I want to know what you are doing! Why, why did you give the time medallions to Kitty? Why did you send her to watch over Sam? What is going on here?"

"Danny," he said, "I know you are well aware that Vlad is planning something. And to answer your other question, yes, he is a big part of the equation. And, also, you need not feel guilty about putting Samantha in danger. She was apart of Vlad's plot long before she ever found you –by the way, you're welcome."

"But what-?"

"You know very well I cannot tell you what will happen," Clockwork relied solemnly. "However, I will tell you this: You, Danny Phantom are due to face some trials. They will test your will power, your heart, your strength, and your virtue. If you succeed you will save the world from a very, very dark future."

"Again?" Danny asked weakly. It was true; he'd faced "trials" before (that had, of course, been conveniently erased from the time stream). Last time it hadn't exactly been a cakewalk…

Clockwork nodded. "Only this time it will be more difficult."

"Great," he muttered.

"Remember, Danny, that the greatest things in life are achieved through the greatest trials. This will not be easy, but the ending should make it worth your while," the suddenly infantile Clockwork explained. "For now, all I can advise you to do is… relax. Take it easy and, though I do realize this is falling on deaf ears, try not to worry so much."

"What?" Danny cried. "But you just told me that I'm on the verge of face the most difficult trials of my life and you are telling me to relax and not worry? Are you crazy?"

"Nothing major is going to happen for some time yet," the floating infant shrugged. "For now, you should be a twenty-one year old boy. Get your motorcycle license, get your own apartment, _tell_ Samantha… It really isn't fair that she should be so in the dark on a situation in which she is so deeply tied."

"Can I bring her to see you?"

Clockwork rubbed his chin in thought. "Perhaps that would be a good idea… except I think it would be wise for you to wait for me to make an appearance rather than to take her through the Ghost Zone. Vlad, as you know, has eyes and ears everywhere... except here, of course. We will keep in touch.

Oh, and Danny, I believe you are familiar with a ghost hunter… You refer to her as Red?"

"Yeah," he groused. "What about her?"

"She is a key component to your success. Be patient with her. _Watch_ her."

"Are you telling me that-!"

"I'm not telling you _anything_." An adolescent version of Clockwork now stood before Danny. "Now go. A good night's sleep will do you good Danny. Tomorrow is a big day."

-

Danny found himself in a familiar situation. He and Sam were walking side by side down a freshly shoveled sidewalk toward the park. His jacket collar was turned up to keep out the cold… and to hide Sam from his peripheral vision. She was not happy. She was scared and she was pissed off, and rightly so. Her arms were crossed tightly, as a mechanism of warmth as well as a way to tell Danny to back off. She had barely spoken to him all day.

The situation was familiar, but oh so foreign.

When they reached the park and found a location where Danny was sure no one would over hear, he said to Sam, "This is it. No more secrets."

Sam hmm'ed half-heartedly. She studied the ground, thickly covered in snow. She noted that her feet were cold and damp feeling. Some snow must have fallen into her boots. She kicked at the fluffy, white flakes.

"Okay," he took a deep breath and ran a hand down his face. "Here goes. …Sam, I… The accident, remember? Lancer talked about it?"

"Yeah," she shrugged. She kind of remembered it. Truth be told there had been a number of distractions that day, but it sounded familiar.

"Well, the accident was more complicated than… see, it did more to me than just knock me out for a while," he explained, swallowing thickly. "I, well… it was a ghost portal… I was inside of it and turned it on and –bam-, you know? Well, something happened to me because of it. I can't even begin to tell you how, because frankly, I just don't know… but somehow ectoplasm was fused into my DNA, or something like that, in the blast… and well, ever since then I've…"

He paused, no amount of explanation could compare to actually seeing the real thing. "Sam, do you trust me?"

She looked at him, watery eyed, but not crying. "I… yes." She said it and she knew it was true, she did trust him. …She trusted him with things like her life, but her heart and her secret were entirely different stories. She rubbed her cold shoulders. A thicker sweater would have been nice.

"Okay, well… okay," he said. "Sam, I'm going to show you something and, just remember that no matter what, I'm still me. I'm still Danny, okay?"

"Okay Danny," Sam replied. She eyed him incredulously. He looked so shaken and nervous. "Danny, I don't know what you are about to do, but I promise I'm not going to… I don't know, freak out or anything. Honest."

He smiled weakly. "Here goes."

Sam, simply put, was surprised, aghast, shocked… Generally not expecting what Danny showed her. At all.

There, were the strange boy she somehow befriended once stood, was another figure. He was of the same height and build, but his hair was snowy white and his eyes were a glowing emerald green. He wore a black and silver suit, a "D" marked on his chest. His most intriguing feature was the fact that he floated inches of the ground.

His eyes studied her reaction.

She staggered forward, a hand covering her mouth. "D-danny?"

He grinned, that same grin. "Yeah."

"You're floating," she stated.

"Yes," he nodded, his grin growing steadily stronger.

"Oh my god!" she cried, arm flying up to point blatantly. "You're _floating_! Oh my god!" She began to pace back and forth, occasionally giving Danny a look mix with awe, disbelief, amazement, and, of course, jaw-dropping shock.

"I can do more than float, you know," he replied smugly, wriggling his eyebrows. There was just something about going ghost that just filled him with confidence. Of course, the fact that Sam wasn't running away screaming, or jumping on her cell phone to call a reporter helped a great deal, too.

"You… so this is how you get your pictures." She said after a moment of consideration, her back turned to him.

"Yeah, and it's also why I took off that day with Lancer," he explained with a light shrug. "I am kind of a vigilante of ghosts."

"I saw you," she said, turning around sharply to resume her blatant pointing. Her eyes widened, she jabbed her finger in the air. "You, you were in my room that night after Kitty- You scared the shit out of me, you jerk!" She smacked him, half surprised to find his arm solid and half surprised at its unnatural coldness.

"I'm sorry! I was worried!" he defended. "I sensed a ghost in your room and I had to find out what was going on! Would you rather I just sat back and didn't do anything?"

She stood there, smiling, arms crossed, shaking her head. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed, dropping her arms dramatically. "You, oh my god." She shook her head some more in that exasperated, disbelieving, but oddly accepting sort of way. "You really are…" She touched a hand to her temple and snorted. "My life has just gotten _so_ much weirder."

"Welcome to my world," Danny smiled ruefully.

"So you can fly." Sam was grinning. This was so, _so_ weird... And yet so very cool.

"I can," he nodded and started to count off on his fingers. "I can also turn invisible and intangible. I can shoot nifty lasers out of my hands and manipulate ectoplasm… lots of stuff."

"Danny, and don't you dare tell Lydia this," she warned, "But I believe you have officially become my favorite person."

At these words, all doubt was removed from his mind that this had been the right thing to do. He was truly, truly happy. Maybe he could take Clockwork's advice? You know, be an average twenty-one year old boy... er, that is to say as normal as a half-ghost can manage. "Would you like to go for a fly?"

Sam looked at him. Did he really have to ask?

-

**::AN::** Okay, well a lot of stuff happened in this chapter and I made sure to make it nice and long for everyone. In my haste to get it out and about, no editing was done. That will come later courtesy of my amazing, awesome editor, Silente Faerie64.

Anyway, I wrote this instead of studying for an Astronomy exam I have tomorrow, so I expect major ass kissing.

As for the four month delay… It was a mixture of writer's block, sickness, and stress from being sick and playing catch up with all my classes. As of now I am barely passing everything. (Note: Don't get the flu on the day a big paper is due. It will screw you over.)

Tucker will be back in the next chapter and thoroughly pissed off that he missed out on so much, don't worry. He's not forgotten. And as for the "trials" Danny faced… well, they were erased from the time stream and have nothing to do with The Ultimate Enemy.

Till Next time!

-DRC-


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